


The Accident

by God_of_Death



Category: Logan/Remy - Fandom, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Accident/Death, Gen, M/M, Spiritual, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Death/pseuds/God_of_Death
Summary: Summary: Tragedy can sometimes be a blessing in disguise.Disclaimers: Logan and Remy belong to Marvel Comics. The other characters in the story, are mine. No harm intended. No money collected. For entertainment purposes only.





	1. Chapter 1

The rain poured down, over the roads with drivers pulling off to the side of rural streets to make way for an anxious ambulance. It was about dusk on a wet and chilly Thursday. Merging into this lane and that, avoiding stopped cars at intersections, the yellow and white ambulance raced down a quickly darkening street to the scene of a bad accident. The siren whaled and slowed to a stop as the vehicle stopped amidst a row of cop cars, and two EMTs rushed out of the back, to assess the damages. It was a tight squeeze to be called to a scene on a winding mountain road, nothing but trees and a slim one lane each road.

"What happened?" A short man in a dark navy medical jacket stood beside one of the officers, viewing the scene, asked beneath the glow and blinking of yellow and red and blue lights. He watched as the other two medics that had been riding with him, checked both drivers, and rushed over to a young one. His scruffy voice and keen senses were more than reputable. Logan was a man who was good at his profession and would not back down for less than perfect. Blue eyes surveyed the scene of a two-car collision, wincing at the sight of one driver pulled halfway out of his red Mercedes, while the other sat limp and bleeding in the driver's seat of his grey Ford.

The detective that Logan stood by, turned and nodded to the man who looked back at him. Shaking his head and downcasting his eyes, the late 30s, divorced, badge breathed deep and pulled his raincoat tighter around him. "Coming around the turn, neither one could get out of the way. Doubt the sports car even had control, Jerry clocked him doin' 60 half a mile back. Waitin' on a coroner for the Mercedes, looks like your boys are pulling the kid out, now." The detective took special interest in the young driver of the grey car, and stepped closer with Logan, for more details. "Is he alive?" he shouted over the distance.

One of the EMTs to arrive with Logan looked over and nodded, as they lay the bleeding driver down on the board. "Pulse is faint but, it's there! Think we need to get him to Cedars, STAT!"

"No! Community General can have him. And, we just might make it there to save him! Let's go!" Logan shouted back to the two medics who now carried the driver over to the ambulance. Patting the detective's arm in leaving, Logan hurried back into the back of the truck and rushed the others on their way. "I got the back, you get ta drivin!" Slamming the doors shut, Logan turned back to look over the young man while he slipped an oxygen mask over the pale face. He checked the pulse in the cold, wet wrist, and found its beat sporadic. Checking the pulse in the jugular, Logan waited a second as the pulse stopped completely. "Shit! Cam! Get the paddles, beat flatlined."

The medic in the passenger seat turned around and slipped into the back to sit and the young man's head. Handing the jellied paddles to Logan, Cam set the charge and waited as Logan initiated the machine. "Nothing." Cam, a younger man of 24, had been the rookie on the job. Having only a few accidents under his belt, and watching Logan and Zeke, a 40 something ebony driver, Cam had to pay attention and learn fast at procedures.

"Again!"

"Ready."

"Clear!" Logan pressed the paddles down, onto the body's chest, and jumped for the second time that the boy jumped. "Anything?"

Cam grabbed a black stethoscope and listened for the young man's heartbeat. "I'm getting a pulse, it's faint but it's there." Cam listened to the chest again, "It's getting stronger."

"He's alive, kid. They do that." Logan logged in what was done and the times, on a clipboard that had been tucked into a tight pocket, behind Cam's seat.

Cam stared at the pale chest, stethoscope still in his ears. "No, I mean, it's getting stronger like.... he might just jump off the table." Pulling the instrument loose, Cam handed it over to Logan and exchanged it for the paddles. 

Logan listened to the heartbeat before turning back to Cam. "Sounds normal to me." Glancing down at the young man's face, Logan noticed black slits in the eyes, telling him that the driver was staring at him. "Don't worry, kid, you'll be just fine. We're takin' you to Community General. You just hang in there, okay?"

The young man let out a calm breath and closed his eyes. He lay there peacefully, and listened to the medics conversations.

"Can't be much older than you, rookie. Black business suit, nice watch, shame about drivers not watchin' where they're goin', huh?" Logan glanced at the details of the young man, and noted the brown wallet that stuck out from the kid's left pants pocket. With a bump in the road, Logan caught the thick wallet as it fell from the pocket. His eyes lifted to the slender young face. He noted the details of pale skin, flawless features despite the bleeding injury on the left side of his forehead, and a softness to the way the man lay there, motionless. Flipping it open, Logan checked through it for any ID. Pulling one card from a slot, he read it aloud, "Remy LeBeau, Louisiana license, auburn hair, brown eyes, about 26 years old."

"He's a long way from home, I'd say." Cam glanced over the boy's clothes and wondered to himself about who Remy LeBeau really was.

The ambulance stopped and the back doors opened with waiting hospital staff, ready to rush the patient inside to the ER. Logan and Cam hurried with them, Logan telling one nurse the details of the accident and the ride to the Emergency doors. Handing the wallet to the nurse, Logan stopped running with the staff, and halted Cam from going with them through the swinging doors. "Better get us some coffee, kiddo. It's gonna be a long night." Patting Cam's back once, Logan led the way back to the ambulance.

"Maybe we should get a thermos for Zeke. He's gonna be dead at the wheel by 5," Cam laughed to himself as they reached the ambulance and climbed inside. 

****

The blur of voices and movements and people around him made his head swim. People were talking to him and about him, and then finally there was silence. The clothes he was wearing were being cut away and replaced with a blue and white polka dotted gown. He closed his eyes from a noisy hallway, and opened them to find himself in a cozy hospital room. The overhead light had been turned off, and the door had been propped open while a short, dark-haired nurse took his vitals for the 3rd time.

A doctor came in a short while later to wake and talk to him about insurance and family alerts. The doctor told him that Remy was in the care of the hospital for at least 3 days, with tests, and that his injuries weren't life-threatening.

As he listened, Remy began to think past the doctor, and remember what the brawny, black-haired medic had mentioned about him. Then, as if plucking notes from a book, Remy spoke, "no family. Father in Paris, mother dead. Renting a room, in town, but will stay for three days."

"Good. Lucky for you, you had your seatbelt on." The name on the tall man's coat said, Spiker. He was a somewhat muscular man with bushy brown hair and a mustache to match. Spiker wrote some notes down on his clipboard and smiled down at Remy as their eyes met. "I'll check in on you in the morning, right now.... I think you need some rest. Good night."

Remy nodded and watched the doctor leave before shutting his eyes for a moment, to gather himself.

The night seemed to pass quickly. He barely remembered falling asleep and dreaming for the little time he had, between checks. The quiet hum of the hospital room was cozy and pleasant. He dozed in and out of consciousness while listening to the steady rhythms of the people who passed outside his door.

When he awoke, fully, a nurse was bringing in a menu for him to choose what breakfast he wanted. Picking fruit and orange juice, Remy handed the menu back to her and asked for the curtains to be opened.

"I'm not sure the sun's up, just yet, but okay." Walking around the other side of the bed, the nurse pulled back the curtains to show him that it was barely turning gray outside. Her teal scrubs were less dark, and she smiled with a warm smile as she turned back to look at him. "I'll be back with your order, in just a bit. Okay?" Her voice was soft and warming as she casually walked over to the door to make the rest of her rounds.

Remy looked about himself and blinked. His head hurt where he had hit the steering wheel, and his mouth was dry from thirst. He raised a heavy left hand to his forehead and placed the tips of his fingers gingerly on the bandage. "Ow." He had said it with very little pained emotion, and more confusion than anything. Pulling his hand back to examine his fingers, he didn't see any blood or wetness.

"Yes, what a nasty bump on the head you've had, Mister LeBeau." Spiker stood in the doorway and smiled at Remy, who looked over at him. "You're lucky to be alive, actually. I've been looking over your chart, and reading the paramedic's notes. They had to revive you in the ambulance, when it seemed you were clinically dead. It also says you've regained consciousness rather quickly. Quite a lucky young man." He stepped inside and motioned for the officer to follow him in. "This is officer Mendez. He's brought the overnite bag that was in the trunk of your rental car, as well as the rest of your personal belongings. When you are ready to check out, they will be ready for you."

"Merci." A monotonous Cajun accent greeted the officer as Remy watched him place the bags on the small table, to the left of the door.

Dr. Spiker came to stand beside Remy's bed and examine his eyes with a penlike flashlight. "How are you feeling this morning? Any pain, discomfort?" He stood back and observed Remy as he answered.

"Just pain in my arms and a headache. Nothing serious."

Spiker laughed at the comment. "Glad you agree. I will have the nurse bring in some Tylenol for your pain. But first, it looks like your breakfast is here. Eat up, and I will be back later for some tests." Nodding to the officer and moving out of the way of the nurse bringing the tray, Dr. Spiker slipped quietly out of the room.

The nurse set the tray down in front of Remy and lift the lid. "There you go. Would you like some help, or are you alright by yourself?"

"Non, I can manage. Tylenol, please."

She nodded and left to fetch the pain relievers.

Remy was left alone to stare at the tray of food that looked less than appetizing. Picking up a slice of golden brown toast, he raised an eyebrow at the lack of hunger he had for the item. Taking a bite, he chewed the unbuttered slice and stared at the bite mark. "Interesting." Another bite, chew and swallow before the nurse came back to watch him slowly eat the piece of bread. 

Soft taps on the bare floor and then a stop by his left shoulder as the nurse came back into the room. "Here you go," she smiled as she handed him a small cup with two white pills inside. Nurse Anthony watched him place the pills in his mouth before handing him the paper cup of juice. "Good. If you need anything else, just push this call button." The small, brunette nurse unhooked the remote from the sidebar of the bed, and laid it by his left hand, for convenience.

"Merci." Again, Remy was left to glance over his unappetizing food and continue to nibble at the other three pieces of unbuttered toast. The throbbing in his head had prevented him from eating his scrambled eggs, and his arms hurt in lifting and holding the utensils. Finally, he pushed the tray away and turned back to watch the sunrise. "Another bleak day," he whispered to himself.

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Spiker stood in the doorway of Remy's room, and watched as the young man sat in a chair, bent over tieing his shoes. "I hope you've enjoyed your visit, with us. I am still amazed that there wasn't more damage, considering the extent of the accident you've had," he smiled and stepped closer to Remy as he spoke.

Sitting up and looking at the doctor with a monotonous expression, Remy took a breath. He smiled slightly and then stood up. "I will be sure to come back if I feel anymore pain." After a deep breath, Remy gathered his things as they sat on the unmade bed, and walked with the doctor to the nurses’ station to check out. His explorations of the overnight bag pleased him in finding clothes that were not black suits. He was free to wear what was in the bag, and picked a pair of faded blue jeans, a dark blue sweatshirt, and strange shoes that felt so comfortable that he smiled when slipping them on.

The physician laughed and shook his head. "I admire your assertiveness. Not all patients seem to share your enthusiasm of our hospital."

"That is a sad detail," Remy's voice seemed clearer as he signed his release.

Doctor Spiker nodded in agreement. "Where to now?"

"Home, I suppose." Waiting for Spiker to sign his release papers, Remy took the time to look around the white, multi-halled room. He watched as doctors and nurses came and went, people on beds were wheeled down the halls by maroon scrubbed orderlies, and visitors sat in the small waiting room. It was a complete mystery to him that such a clean and orderly place feared most people. Why would people dislike coming to hospital when something serious happened? If it meant staying in the world a bit longer, he would certainly visit the hospital when he felt ill.

As Spiker finished and handed Remy his forms, he escorted Remy to the elevator to say his goodbyes, "Well, it seems we've come to the end. I'm sure the nurses will all be upset that you're leaving. I think a few have come to enjoy seeing you on their rounds." A smile graced his lips for a moment as the elevator doors opened to an empty car. He stood beside Remy and thought to himself as he looked the young man over, he didn't seem to have any range of drastic emotion; he was just pleasantly calm about the whole experience.

Remy was touched and smiled in return. "I'm sure they will find someone who is more of a conversationalist than I am." Holding the door open with his left hand on the sensor, he shook the doctor's hand with his right and stepped into the car, "good bye." The doors closed before Spiker could reply but Remy knew the sentiment was returned, and awaited to be free of the building. He knew he had missed several days and was anxious in getting back to work.

When the elevator doors opened, Remy stepped out into the neat and spacious lobby. Few doctors and nurses were talking to nurses at the administration desk, and several patients filled out paperwork in the small waiting room. Ahead of him were tall, glass sliding doors that invited new patients in, and well patients out.

Strolling forward, Remy noted a small, ill girl holding her mother's hand as they walked towards the front desk. Upon seeing him, the little girl stopped and clutched her mother's side when he smiled down at her. He paused to say 'hello' and ease the girl into comfort.

Little Julie Brink stood shivering beside her mother. A pink baseball cap hid where her hair had fallen out, and the green sweatsuit hung on her withering frame. She was only eight or nine years old but her eyes knew who he was. "Hi." Her voice was only a whisper yet she said it so clear for him to hear the pain and fright in it. Watching him with wide eyes, Julie laid her head on her mother's arm.

"Don't worry, cherie. You'll be just fine." After a wink and another smile, Remy stepped aside and let them pass before continuing on his way outside.  
_______

Remy stood on the curb, just outside of the building, and stared out into the parking lot. Inhaling and exhaling slowly as he stepped off of the curb and walked straight, down a row of cars to the intersection. His pace was slow to moderate but the quiet buzzing in his ears of people's worries and tensions grew steadily as he reached the sidewalk of the street. In coming to a stop on the sidewalk, he sighed and waited for the light to change so that he could cross to the other side.

The light changed and Remy started to cross, his head filling with sounds that came from everywhere. In reaching the other side, he paused and slowly turned his head to find where a certain sound was coming from. Somewhere off to his right, there came a sound of great distress; inaudible to everyone else but him. With an eye blink, he was gone from his spot on the curb.

By the way he traveled, it had only taken him less than a second to arrive at a small apartment in a big, nondescript building in the middle of town. The paramedics had already arrived on the scene so Remy was forced to stand just outside the doorway. His bag now gone, and a black suit where jeans, a blue sweatshirt, and tennis shoes donned. Remy was dressed like a businessman, only the business he was in was not one to get dressed up about. Standing there very calmly, Remy waited with a smile. The smile faded as a smaller medic stopped his workings on an elderly woman, and seemed to stare at him. Smirking slightly, Remy was gone from the hallway, leaving a loud, flat beep to ring in Logan's ears.

Logan shook out of his thoughts and turned back to tend to the woman. His mind kept the image of the young man that he had known from somewhere but couldn't place him. "We've lost her," he uttered after a long minute. "Let's get her to the M.E.'s." Logan thought it odd to see the young man standing in the hallway, and as one of the medics passed in front of him, the boy was gone and with him went the 83 year old's life. What the heck was going on?

"You alright, Chief?" Zeke placed a hand on Logan's back as he came to stand behind him. The older man was a little concerned for his friend as Logan hadn't been himself since they arrived on the scene of the car accident days ago. Zeke had watched his friend and Chief carefully and noted the moment when Logan stopped what he was doing and looked out into the empty hallway, staring off into space. When the man didn't answer, he asked again, "Logan?"

Logan took a deep breath and turned to face Zeke. He nodded and motioned to the covered board as he whispered, "let's get her downstairs."

Remy watched the men roll the stretcher out and place it in the back of the ambulance. He stood about three car lengths down on a busy Saturday street, watching the smaller medic. The medic had looked straight at him when no one else saw him. It was puzzling him that he couldn't understand how the medic saw him. 

As the ambulance pulled away, Remy stood there and watched it until it was out of sight. His eyes sat fixed on the passenger’s side mirror and Logan's bewildered face that reflected in it. Somewhere inside him, he knew they would cross paths again and he wasn't really looking forward to it.  
________

Logan stood in the third lane, on the freeway, after a five car pileup and surveyed the damage as the firefighters peeled back doors and car roofs. The fourth car had started smoking and the remaining firemen were quick to get it under control. He waited and watched for the chance to let his team in to do their part of the job. Glancing around to the backed up traffic, as it had the flawless timing to happen in the middle of rush hour, Logan's eyes caught sight of a dark figure on the entrance ramp.

Taking a step closer and holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the streetlights, he noted the young man's face. Logan felt the confusion take over his thoughts again but let them wither as his attention was directed back to the fourth and fifth car. Standing on the other side of what looked like a morbid form of an arrow, Logan sighed and reached for his kit that sat at his feet. When he looked back for the dark figure, it was gone. He smirked to himself of what the mystery between the Cajun kid and the scenes he stood by and observed.

Remy stood on the median and stared at the man who stared back before being called away, thinking just how it was that the medic was able to see him. Focusing on each of the cars, Remy put it out of his mind and did what he was there for. He now stood at the third car, and the smashed point of the arrow. Being that cars one and two scattered to either side of the lanes, three had hit between them and cars four and five hit each other as they tried to break before it. The young man went unnoticed as he peered into the crumpled, late model Pontiac and found a small child huddled lifeless between the back seat and the passenger’s seat, on the floor. He smiled and seemed to be reaching in and taking the 5 year old, Hispanic boy's hand. As their hands nearly touched, a voice called to Remy from the ambulance.

"Hey, what're you doing here?" Logan had called to him twice but it was the third time that Remy had heard him. Grabbing his kit and walking briskly towards Remy, Logan kept his eyes focused on the young man in black. "Who are you? Did you see what happened? Answer me!" His temper flared as he was stopped short of the young man by a few feet. "You need to leave the scene and let us handle this."

Remy held up a hand and managed to keep Logan back at three steps. He paused a moment and turned back to the wrecked car. "You won't be needing that," Remy said with complete and eerie calmness. Swallowing at the dryness of his task, Remy smiled and nodded lightly.

Leaning over and looking in through the window, his eyes caught sight of what Remy was staring at. "Shit!" Turning back, Logan yelled for Cam to bring a board as he tried to open the door on the other side. Opening it slightly, Logan glanced back to make sure Remy was still there, he was. Managing to get the door open a little ways before it jammed, he was told again in the same calm voice.

"You don't need dat, now."

"Why not?"

Remy breathed slowly, "too late for de chile." He didn't move as Cam came to stand at the window where Remy stood. As both medics were now busy with the boy, Remy took the time to slip away and leave them to their job.

When Logan turned back to look for Remy and ask the multiple questions that he had, the young man in black was gone. "Dammit!" Sighing and finishing loading the covered boy into the ambulance, he glanced up and watched a cloud of dark smoke rise up from the first car and distort the once black and clear night. "Aw Hell."

TBC.


	3. Chapter 3

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

A calm voice came over the receiver and spoke softly but loud enough so that the operator could hear him. "The parents are fighting and a young girl is dead. They are at this address," he paused for the gunshot before continuing with the address. As he hung up the receiver, he stepped quietly and unnoticed through the house and down the hall to the back bedroom. There were clothes and papers everywhere, furniture was turned upside down yet Remy had little trouble getting to girl.

The shouting that went in and out of other rooms continued but seemed to quiet as Remy knelt down to look at the small child. A girl of 11 lay on her left side, rolled away from Remy, with blood pouring from the wound on her back. The .38 lay discarded a few feet away and the pungent scent of the burnt powder hung in the air. When Remy rolled her over, he smiled as the girl opened her eyes and smiled back. "The police are on their way. Everything will be fine now."

"My momma's gonna be okay?" The noise of the fight and sirens had taken her attention away from the man beside her, and turned them to the sound of her mother screaming and crying in the livingroom. She sat up and shivered.

Remy turned and looked to the open door, "yes. It's time to go home, now."

Shaggy blond hair fell into her brown eyes as she looked back to see what Remy meant. A pool of dark red soaked into the light blue shirt and jeans. "Where'm I going?"

"Home."

"But, I am home.....?"

Remy's eyes met the girl's. His cool black and red orbs displayed the part of the job he hated; guilt. It wasn't his fault that the child was shot in cold blood by her drunken mother, or thrown around like a rag doll by her equally drunken father. Yet Remy didn't like explaining to innocent children what their parents had done. That wasn't always the case, though. "A better home, my dear. Come." Reaching a hand to help her up, Remy stood and waited patiently for her to take his hand.

The girl smiled and asked, "what's your name?"

"You may call me.... Remy." Helping her to her feet, Remy held her hand gently and turned away from the body on the floor, to face the doorway. He paused as the first person through the door was the scruffy medic, Logan. This time Logan didn't see him and he was able to escort the girl to her new home with no altercations.

*******

As the medics loaded the child's body into the ambulance, Logan caught sight of a familiar face. Remy stood next to the front of the ambulance, leaning against the hood and smiling passively at Logan. Taking the remaining six steps closer to him, he spoke softly, "people will start to talk about us, if we keep meeting like this."

Remy straightened. "I was hoping you would show up."

"You gave the call, didn't you?"

Nodding, Remy sighed and looked back at the house. "S' not my place to tell you who I am. How is it dat you can see me?"

Logan took a final step and grabbed onto Remy's forearm as if to keep him there while they talked. Keeping his voice down, Logan leaned in and offered a deal, "I'll answer yours if you answer mine." He inhaled the baby powdered scent of the young Cajun and waited for him to agree. 

Sighing in reluctance, Remy stared calmly into the blue eyes of the medic and nodded before looking down at the hand that held his arm.

"All I know is that we got a call that you and a beamer collided on a mountain road, and when we got there, he was dead and you were barely alive. So, we dug you out of the car and took you to CGH. Now, I see you at places I shouldn't." Logan gave him the gist of the details as he was eager to hear Remy's side of the story. "Now mine. Why is it you are always at the scene?" There was a low growl but Logan contained his anger to just getting an answer, any was gladly accepted.

Remy breathed deeply as he thought of how to say what he could and couldn't say about himself. "Our jobs are alot alike. I take care of my part and you take care of the rest. Everyt'ing else, I can't say." Looking back to the front door of the house, he watched as the cops lead the parents out in handcuffs.

"What do you mean by that? Are you causing these things?"

Shaking his head, Remy looked first at Logan and then past him to the driver, Zeke, who stood at the backdoors of the ambulance. "Dat isn't for you to know just yet. And, it seems dat you are needed." A nod of the head to the man behind Logan caused Logan to hold on a little tighter to Remy's arm.

Logan didn't move his eyes from the young man as he called his friend over to them, "Zeke, want ya to meet someone."

The driver and long time friend, Zeke, had been worried about Logan for awhile but came over to where they stood without hesitation. He nodded to Logan and then fixed his sight on Remy. "Are you gonna stand here all night or can we get this kid down to the M.E.s before sunrise?" Zeke took a long look at Remy as the recognition set in. "Glad to see you're okay kid."

Remy smiled and nodded. He turned back to Logan and glanced at the hand again, "we will talk later, cher."

"Count on it. But, in case you're not busy later," Logan offered. "There's a coffee shop about 3 blocks from here called 'The Carved Bean'. My shift ends in a few hours, meet me there. We should finish our chat."

Thinking for a moment, Remy nodded and promised to be there.

*******

In the small coffee shop, Remy waited patiently. He knew he was early but wanted to get there before Logan, just to see him walk in and sit down. His black suit was pressed and clean yet he found himself brushing at an occasional lint ball. His legs were crossed right over left and his hands sat folded in his lap as he leaned back in his metal wire chair. A small stone, round table sat in front of him and on it sat a tea cup of a mocha latte. Sighing to himself, Remy waited for the door to open and the EMT to join him in the mostly empty cafe. The bite taken out of the pastry on the table revealed a cherry filling inside the flaky golden crust of the turnover.

Finally the door opened with a chime and in walked the short, hairy man named Logan. Blue eyes caught sight of the young man he was there to meet, and smiled at the acknowledgement that LeBeau was there. "Been waiting long?" Logan walked up to the table but paused before sitting down. He took in what Remy was wearing and his pose and smirked to himself about the casualness of the Cajun.

"Non, just got here a few minutes ago."

"A few minutes, huh?"

Remy nodded. "About twenty." He didn't bother to look at the clock on the wall to see if he was right or wrong, he only said what sounded good and made Logan feel less guilty about it.

Logan smiled. He sat down in the chair across from Remy and ordered just plain coffee when the waiter came up to the table. Waiting for the server to leave, Logan kept his eyes on the younger man as Remy took a sip of his drink. "So, can you at least tell me why you're here?"

The answer took a long moment to formulate. Remy's obligations to his business came first and foremost but he had a feeling Logan wouldn't leave it alone even if sated with an excuse. "I am in the 'life plan' profession."

"Well, that says a whole Hell of a lot."

Remy shrugged. When the waiter came back with Logan's drink, and waited for payment, Remy watched the movements between the two. As the waiter left and Logan took a sip of his coffee, Remy thought of expanding his answer a little more. "I suppose you could call me a -- reviewer of life stories. When something happens to someone, however good or bad it is, I like to help that person understand their aspects."

Logan's brow furrowed. Aspects? "So you've been causing these things?" He took another sip but wasn't looking for an admission of guilt from the elusive Cajun. "Should you be talking to the cops?"

"Non," Remy smiled. "Like I said, I cannot explain to you why I am here. My job is important, as your job is. We need each other, as unfortunate as it seems." He took another sip of his drink and glanced out of the window, behind Logan. "I am needed for an appointment. I hope to meet you again," taking a closer look at the EMT's nametag, he smiled, "Logan." Remy stood and knew that Logan would exactly thank him for the confusing little talk yet, at the same time, Logan wasn't completely disappointed at the meeting.

Logan took another sip at his coffee and also stood up. "Well, count on seeing me again. I think I'll figure you out yet." 

"If you wish." Remy smirked at the thought. "Perhaps we can have coffee again. Au revoir, Logan."

"See ya, kid."

*********

Putting the key in the lock and turning it, Logan opened the door to his apartment and stepped in. It was still dark, and he didn't bother turning on the entryway light to see. With a sigh, Logan closed the door and locked it before moving through the dark house and into the bedroom. Flipping the switch and tossing his jacket onto the end of the bed, Logan sat down beside it and reveled in the silence.

The remote control for the 19 inch television that sat at the end of the bed, on the dresser, was lying in the middle of the bed. Swiping it up and clicking the television on, Logan began to untie his shoes and undress for bed. Unbuttoning his shirt and standing up to pull it from his pants, his attention was caught as a horrible wreck off the coastline was being discussed on the news channel. 

A fishing boat disaster that killed fourteen people on the fishing boat and injured twelve on the giant luxury liner it had collided with. The news was full of survivor stories and recounts of the accident and left Logan wondering about what Remy said and where he might have gone off to. When the news turned to a comedy show, Logan turned it off and finished getting ready for bed.

Logan lay there awake and staring at the ceiling. The sun was coming up but Logan was still awake. In his mind, he replayed the talk with Remy in the cafe, and the strange decadent aura of the young man who seemed so calm about the chat. When he finally closed his eyes, the face of the young Cajun stuck in his mind and the voice in his ears. Logan drifted off to sleep around 9AM and was plagued by dreams of each scene that he saw Remy at.

The alarm went off somewhere around 7:30. Logan lay there until 7:45 and then sat up. Walking to the kitchen for something to eat, Logan turned on the light in the living room and glared at the descending sun out beyond his fifth floor balcony. He was hungry but not for what was left over in the fridge or frozen in the freezer. Deciding on pizza, Logan dialed the number on his cordless and then turned on the television for the nightly news. Another horrible accident had happened, this time in town, and for once, Logan was glad it was his night off.

As he sat down to watch the report, he caught sight of a familiar face. Remy, or who claimed to be Remy. He was only there for a moment and went unnoticed by everyone around him, but Logan saw him. The knock to let him know the pizza had arrived had diverted his attention for a second and when he turned back, Remy had disappeared. 

"I'm comin." Logan grabbed his wallet and opened the door to pay.

The pizza boy thanked Logan and handed him the pizza before hurrying back to the elevator.

TBC.


	4. Chapter 4

The phone rang sometime in the afternoon while Logan was still trying to stay asleep. Grumbling and rolling over, Logan grabbed the receiver and placed it upside down to his ear, "Hello...? Hel--...." Glancing at what he held to make sure he had the phone, he realized that he spoke into the wrong end and quickly turned it around. "Who's this?"

The voice on the other end was that of a young man in his late-teens. He stood in a pay phone, across town, and seemed unsure of what he was doing. "Uh,... dad?" Corey was the son of a former flame that Logan never married but stuck around to help raise and care for the child. From day one, it was evident that Logan was not the father but that hadn't stopped him from loving Corey and his mother. Both he and his mother had light blond hair with hazel eyes yet Corey never questioned his difference to Logan.

"Corey," Logan yelped and sat straight up in bed and blinked in disbelief. "Are you alright?"

Corey looked around himself and met eyes with the officer who stood behind him, waiting. "Yeah, I'm okay. Um, there was an accident, though. The officers want you to come down here and make sure I didn't steal mom's car."

Logan looked at the clock and took a deep breath. "Where are you?"

"Twenty-fourth and Vinton." Corey paused before adding, "hurry, I'm not crazy about the crossbar hotel thing, ya know?"

A million thoughts raced through Logan's mind. Hanging up and racing to get dressed, another call rang through the quiet bedroom. Struggling to get his pants on, Logan sat down on the side of the bed and answered the phone, "hello?" Holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear, Logan reached down to put on clean socks while he listened to the other party.

Cora-Lynn Whittier, Logan's supervisor, sat at her desk and stared at Logan's time sheet. "Logan, I'm glad I caught you. I was wondering if you're free to come in. We are getting pretty busy from the holiday weekend and four of our drivers are out sick." Since Logan was one of her top EMTs, she waited to call him as a last resort. Cora-Lynn knew Logan enjoyed what little time off he took and dreaded calling him in for a double shift.

"I have to meet my son across town about an accident. It's what-- 3:30 now,.... I could be there by 5. Can you hold off for a bit?" Logan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the ache of a pending headache. It was going to be a long and thoroughly frustrating night.

Mrs. Whittier thought for a moment and glanced at the clock on the wall. "Alright, you have until 5. That's the best I can give you. I'm sorry Logan but, we need the bodies right now." She cut the call short as two other lines rang on her multi-lined phone.

Logan waited a minute after hanging up, and took a deep breath.

\-------------

The 16 year old was in handcuffs by the time that Logan arrived on the scene. He sat in the back of a police cruiser and stared anxiously out the window for Logan. He called out to Logan as the man got out of his car and approached the officer by the wreck. "Dad!" Leaning his head out of the partially down window, he yelled again only to have Logan's hand wave at him to acknowledge him.

Logan didn't look at Corey but watched him from the corner of his eye. He spoke to the officer whose car his son was in and learned more than what was said on the phone. "Is the other driver hurt?"

"Not serious, but we are having both parties checked out. Have you called your wife about the car?" A taller man with a bushy brown mustache and graying brown hair went over his notes in the small pad he held in his hands. He seemed tired from the already long day yet he handled the event as if he had just started.

Logan shook his head slightly, "we're not married." Letting his eyes look over the damage to the car, he guessed that it was minor but totaled and that since it was a brand new car, Corey's mother would be able to trade it in for a better one. "His mother is on her way from work. Are you arresting him?" As Logan looked back at the boy in the car, his eyes caught someone leaning against a building, just past the cruiser. No surprise played on his face yet curiosity sparked in his mind.

"Not for the accident, just for the vehicle not being registered to him. Standard procedure. If his mother willingly let him take the car, we will release him into her custody but, we will have to book him for failure to present driver's license." The officer flipped through Corey's statements and shrugged.

Remy stood there, quietly observing the scene, and only caught Logan's eye at the last minute. He gave a smile and vanished as another person captured Logan's attention.

Corey's mother pulled up in her friend's car and hurried over to talk to her son.

Logan spotted Corey's mom and started towards her, forgetting all about Remy. "Sharon!" Logan held up a hand and called to Corey's mother.

Sharon Abbott was a tall woman but not so tall as to tower over Logan. When she saw him, she reached out for him and took two steps forward. "Logan, where is he? Is he okay? How bad is it?" The worry in her expression and voice drowned out all possible words that Logan and the officer had said. Her longish brown hair had moved limply against her back. "I want to see my son, where is he?" Holding her thin-rimmed glasses up to her eyes, she scanned the crowd for Corey.

Logan grabbed her arms and shook gently her to calm down and hush. "Sharon, he's fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises. They have him handcuffed in the back of the patrol car, over there," Logan said calmly, pointing to the car behind him. "He called me to identify who he was and make sure he was okay."

"Are they taking him to jail? Why is he in the back?" Her voice had become a little more worried than calm though she wasn't trying to get free of Logan's grasp.

Sighing and nodding, Logan said as calmly as he could, "yes, they are booking him but only on the reason that he didn't have his license. Can you take over from here, or do you want me to go with him?"

Sharon nodded and hugged him, shaking slightly. "Yes, I can manage. Thank you, Logan. Are you going to work?"

Logan nodded as they separated. "Yea, they're getting low on people and need me tonight. You have my number in case you need me, right?"

"Yes. Thank you, again, Logan." Sharon hurried over to where Corey sat and began to look him over and talk to him, her peach dress and jacket blowing slightly in the breeze.

\------------

As Logan's long day came to an end, he was surprised that he hadn't seen the young man. There had been so many accidents and paperwork for him sort through that he had lost track of the people around him. Logan hated working holidays that revolved around pointless celebrations and overindulgence of drinking.

His last call for the day was the call that made him aware of the missing young man that had been at most of his scenes. Logan had recognized the hill and the road and bend that brought he and Remy together but it was the accident that set them apart. He sighed as he stepped out of the van and shut the door to rush up to where a little girl's body lay crushed under the front left tire of a brand new white SUV.

The family that had run over the child sat off to the side and described to the officers what happened. The father had been driving and talking on the cell phone that he and his wife had passed back and forth as it had been a distant relative on the other end. The two sleepy children in back, a twelve year old girl holding her sixteen month old baby brother, stood behind them and stared at Logan as he crawled on his hands and knees around the front end of the vehicle. It hadn't helped anyone that the sky had opened up enough for rain. The late dinner hour had made it hard for the men to work but the darkening rain clouds overhead made it unbearable.

A tow truck had been backed up to lift the front end up off of the girl with its hook and chain so that Logan and Cam could slide the girl out from under it. The vehicle lifted slowly and Logan held his breath as he had gotten a better look at the child. They tossed ideas back and forth about how old she must have been, and as they removed her cracked helmet the details of the nameplate inside made for a sickening evening.

"Kimmie Parks, 9 years old." Logan swallowed hard and looked to the bottom of the hill. "Says she lives just down the way. What was she doin' up here after dinnertime?"

Cam found himself holding back the bile in his throat as he stared at the helmet and then back down to the girl on the board. "Such a cute little kid. I'd be going crazy if this was my kid out after dark." He knelt down to get a better look at the girl's injuries while letting Logan hand the helmet over to the officer and explain about the parents. "Think she suffered long?" The tire tread that had gone across the front of her yellow sweater and the blood that soaked her boot-cut blue jeans with diamond studs at the cuffs made the scene go from simulation to real in an instant.

"Nope. Perhaps a moment or so but, I think she was gone before she knew what was on top of her. She must have been goin home, on the bike," Logan pointed to the bent pink Princess bike with tassels that lay a few feet away, resting against the bottom of the mountain, "and the SUV came around the mountain and didn't see her in the headlights that should have been on more than just the runner lights. People and their damn cell phones." Bending down to help lift the board, Logan took a look at the girl and wondered inadvertently about Remy and his accident that had been at the exact same spot. "Let's get her to the hospital."

\----------

Zipping up his coat and stuffing his hands into his pockets, Logan walked out of the station and headed for his late model, blue pickup truck. As he took the keys out of the left pocket and flipped through the several keys he had to find the right key, Logan felt the presence of someone behind him. He stopped and turned around to see a familiar face.

"Forty-nine Ford, right?"

Logan nodded. "I had a revelation about you tonight."

"Oh?" Remy stepped closer.

"Yea, you're bad luck." Logan gripped the keys tighter in his hand.

Remy stepped closer but stopped a few feet away from the other man. "But, I haven't seen you today, or yesterday, or all week. Have I?" Slipping his hands calmly into the pants pockets of his black suit and smiling, Remy was in awe of the other man in wet attire. Though it was still raining and Logan was getting more and more wet, Remy had looked like he stood under an umbrella but carried none.

Logan took a step closer to him and blinked as a drop of rain hit his eyelashes. "I was brought back to a familiar place tonight. Same place I met you. A little girl died at that same spot. So, it's come full circle. Is this some sick joke you play?"

A shake of the young man's head as Remy sighed. "Like I said, Logan, you aren't ready for my explanation of what I do. My job is too important for me to just spill it to everyone who can see me." At that moment, he stopped talking and backed up a step. He had been so excited to have someone else, who was alive, to converse with that he had almost spilled himself.

"Uh uh, I'm not believing it. Get in." Logan turned and unlocked his door before climbing in and reaching over to unlock the passenger side door. Once Remy was inside the truck, he started the engine and headed back to his apartment. "I'm tired of this pussy-footin' around shit. I don't care if it takes 'til the crack of dawn two days from now, but we're gonna get to the bottom of 'Remy LeBeau'. Yer like a Waldo that pops up when I ain't lookin for ya."

Remy sat silently in the passenger seat and listened to everything around him. A hushed breath as Logan huffed at the assumed capture of the elusive Cajun. Was he doing the right thing, or would this be the end of his job if Logan demanded the truth out of him? He could feel the turn of events falling out of his control. Closing his eyes and resting his head back, Remy was at a loss of how the explanation should go.

TBC.


	5. Chapter 5

When the truck finally came to a stop, Remy opened his eyes and looked around at the underground parking garage. The number on the wall in front of him could only have been Logan's apartment number. He took a breath and looked over at Logan before speaking, he was determined to get out of whatever truth Logan was looking for. "Logan, there is nothing that I can tell you that will get you any farther in your quest to know who I am. I've had nothing to do with these deaths or misfortunes that plague your mind so." His tone hadn't changed from calm and he was far from nervous though, it wasn't his idea of spending an evening.

"You are hiding something, aren't ya?" Logan had already opened his door and slid out of the truck before looking back to Remy. "Look, I'm tired of all this 'cloak and dagger' you keep doin. I could get oil from a water spout before you'd spill. This is looking pretty suspicious from my super's point of view, so I need to come up with something to hand him if you want to keep more people off your case. Now, you want that second cup of coffee here," motioning to the inside of the truck, "or, would you prefer to sit in the comforts of my private apartment? Your choice." Logan stepped back and shut the door, silently telling the man inside that he wasn't about to sit in the garage all night.

Sighing, Remy got out of the truck and closed the door before following Logan to the elevator and stepping inside. As the doors closed, there was a surge of heartbeat that ran through him and made him shudder. When the next surge struck, he had to close his eyes to keep from swaying from the rhythm. The elevator stopped and Remy opened his eyes, his first glance was back to Logan who stood to his left. "I do not think this is a good idea, Logan."

Logan stared at him as they exited the car and had drawn some small conclusions about the youth. He had noted that Remy's accent had diminished but attributed it to what Remy might have deemed professionalism. Leading Remy to the apartment door, he paused before taking out his key and unlocking it. "Ya know kid, I woulda thought you would be some hot-shot fireball somethin that came and left, not stuck around like a sore thumb creatin havoc."

"Havoc?" Calmly, Remy tried to comfort his host as carefully as he could. "Logan, I have not created anything, merely watched. Accidents happen on their own." The door was opened and Remy was pressed through the doorway into the comfortable apartment. Thunder started rolling just outside as lightning flashed and captured Remy's attention, beyond the balcony window. With the lights on, Remy had a chance to look about himself and see another side to the pushy medic.

The medium sized apartment was clean and in very precise order. Pictures on the walls were of scenic views and portraits of Native American Storm Dancers and Samurais. Creme carpeting felt fluffy and comfortable under his shoes. The fullness of the sofas looked very comfortable but, he bet Logan wouldn't ask him to stay the night seeing as Logan was hell-bent on getting answers to things he shouldn't be asking.

The kitchen was to the left and somewhat small but with an open plan to it. To the right was Logan's dark bedroom but it seemed inviting that he would leave the door open with company in the house. The curtains on the windows had all been closed and were a very clean looking creme color with flowing folds that reminded Remy of a time long ago before his present day employment. The ice maker in the refrigerator dropped a tray of ice into the bucket and snapped Remy out of his musings.

He had noticed that Logan had already sat down in the long sofa and was waiting for Remy to join him on the next cushion. Smiling casually, Remy walked over and sat down a good distance from Logan. "Very nice home you have here, Logan." Crossing his right ankle over his left knee, Remy turned to place his right elbow on the back of the sofa and lace his fingers together with his left hand. "Just you dat lives here?" The accent was slowly coming back into his speech as he remembered who he was.

Logan nodded and cleared his throat. As he stood up again, Logan looked back to Remy and asked, "would you like a drink?"

"Ah, yes please. Water is fine, merci." Staring at the curtains and listening to the rain pound on the walls and roof, Remy gave complete confidence in Logan that he would only get water in his glass.

Logan walked to the kitchen and grabbed two small glasses out of the cupboard above the stove before turning around and heading over to the stainless steel refrigerator and grabbing the blue plastic pitcher of water and a beer for himself. "Not a drinker, huh?" Logan poured the water into the glass before tending to his own.

"Non."

Logan raised an eyebrow over at the young man who sat calmly staring back at him from the sofa. "Never touched it, huh?"

Remy bowed his head a bit and then looked back up at him. "When I was younger, I would drink. My line of business prohibits personal pleasure on professional time."

Grabbing the two glasses and walking back over to his guest, Logan voiced his question, "which are you on now?"

"Personal. But, this isn't the time to drink."

As Logan handed his guest the glass of water, he noticed Remy's eyes shifting to the glass of beer in Logan's hand. "So, what 'business' are you in?" Instead of moving back to his place on the sofa, Logan sat on the rectangular glass coffee table, in front of Remy and leaned in.

If Remy was intimidated by the closeness, he didn't show it. Remy simply accepted the glass, smiled and took a sip. He swallowed the sip and blinked back at Logan before answering with what he had to think long and hard about before saying, "life insurance." Placing the glass on his right thigh, Remy listened to Logan as he contained a chuckle. "I'm sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for but it is the best I can give you."

Logan nodded and took a good swallow of his beer. "So, why have I seen you everywhere? You been stalkin' me?"

"Non." A short reply from behind another sip of water.

Lightning flashed once more before another crash of thunder roared overtop of the building, shaking its structure and causing the light to flash off and back on after a second. In that second the lights were off, another sliver of golden light flashed and lit up the face of the young man sitting calmly across from Logan. Suddenly, the young man didn't look like a man but more of a skeleton, in a suit, with glowing red eyes. When the lights came back on, Logan tilted his head as Remy stared back at him with an eerie smile.

Taking a deep breath and fully looking at Remy and the way he was sitting, Logan took another sip and set his glass down, knowing that Remy was watching him. "Tell me about yourself. Girlfriend? Wife? Family? What brings you here?" He turned back to look at Remy for a long moment but not pass judgement so soon. As if habit, Logan reached for another drink and held the glass is readiness for it while he waited for an answer.

Remy only shook his head at each question. "No family. It's just me. As I have told you before, I am here on business."

Since Logan had been staring into Remy's brown eyes, he paused as another flash of lightening changed Remy's eyes. His guest's eyes went from brown on white to red on black for an instant and then back again, causing Remy to grasp what he saw and close his eyes to him.

"You know what I saw, don't you?" Slamming his glass down on the table, Logan waited for Remy to open his eyes, and when that didn't work, Logan grabbed the young man's thin arms and shook him. "Answer me! Who the Hell are you? What are you?"

Remy turned his head as he felt Logan's hot breath on his left cheek. "I'm sorry, Logan. I cannot tell you." Clearing his throat, Remy sifted out of Logan's grasp and stood up. "I should go." He moved past Logan and carried his glass over to the kitchen and placed it on the counter but paused as Logan walked over to stand behind him. "Thank you for inviting me in, Logan."

"Know what I smell on you?"

Remy stood frozen with his back to Logan. He stared at the front door and hoped he didn't hear the word that would crumble everything to cinders. "What?" The calmness of his whisper hiding the fear and shakes inside him.

"You know damn well what it is. The cold, loneliness of despair. The agonizing rise of your insides in your throat as you don't want to get close to anyone who might know who you are."

Turning around to face his accuser, Remy hardened his expression. "And what am I, Logan?" He felt sick and weak, and was rethinking the drink of beer that had been offered to him. 

"Scared." Logan turned away and started back to the sofa, not seeing the blazing red fire that pulsed from Remy's black eyes. Thunder crashed outside once more. "Yer so scared you don't even know yourself anymore." Logan had known what he smelled on the youth. It was ancient and very cold. The smell he often woke up in the middle of the night to. It was a dangerous plain on a man so young but Remy had really carried it with ease. There was no telling what the youth might do if he had spoken the word outright.

Remy stood between feelings. The door was now behind him, yet there was a warm body of a man who had taken the time to see him and see through him to break him down to what he had tried so hard to conceal. His eyes softened as a twinge of mortality ran through him. "How do you force another mask over the one you wish to wear? How is it you know so much about people yet, you choose to live alone, Logan? Why do you waste your time to save strangers' lives when you are dying inside?" Remy stopped himself. He had spoken too much and the look on Logan's face as he turned around from reaching for his glass on the coffee table, was more than his silence request.

"So, now you are the talkative one." Logan folded his arms in front of his chest and cleared his throat. He hadn't worried about answering Remy's questions but rather continued to pry as much information out of him as Remy would allow. "Is that why it's like pulling teeth with you? And why you're always watching me and what I do? You think this is easy?"

Remy fumbled over what to say and how to say it. He stepped forward and came to stand a foot away from Logan. "As you said, it's a very lonely life I live. Mine has no happy ending. But you, you make sure you do not live as others do. You love, yes. However, you do not want anyone who can see inside you." Remy lowered his head and stared at Logan's shoes. "That is my punishment, as well. I cannot have a real life or love. Instead, I look in from the outside. And when I see you, I see me." Remy looked up and caught Logan's eyes. "Understand?"

Logan wasn't sure what Remy was saying until Remy stepped forward and cupped his face in thin hands before kissing Logan gently on the lips.

When the gesture wasn't returned, Remy backed away and put his head down. "I'm sorry. It's been so long since I've done something like that, I just forget where I am sometimes." Wiping his mouth with his right hand, Remy turned around and headed quickly for the door. "Thanks for the drink. I'll-- see ya, Logan." Not looking back to see if Logan even cared, Remy had the door open and was running down the hall for the elevator.

Just as the button was pushed on the elevator, the electricity in the building went out. A sigh exited Remy's lungs as he turned and felt another person's presence beside him. "Don't worry, I'm leaving."

"Well, I think the power won't be on for awhile, kid. So, yer gonna have a long wait. C'mon back inside, and uh, let's talk about this?" Eventhough he couldn't see Remy, he could smell him. Logan's nose told him things about Remy that he wasn't sure he really wanted to know in the dark. "Better than standin out here, in a dark hallway."

Remy nodded, "okay."

\---------

Logan closed the door and opened a drawer in the kitchen that housed a few tap lights. Pushing them on and then setting them in various places in the living room, he noticed Remy sat still on the sofa and stared at the floor in front of him. "You wanna tell me why you kissed me?"

Remy gave no voice but shook his head.

Placing the last light on the coffee table, Logan stood across from the youth, with the table between them. "What made you think I went for guys?"

"It's been a long time since I knew what to do. Don't expect you to understand."

"Understand?" Logan placed a foot on the table's edge and leaned forward, resting his left arm across his thigh. "What don't you think I understand? Tell me. This whole conversation is pointless if we're just gonna go round in circles."

The next vibe Remy felt from his host was something he had been searching for for so long. Lifting his head up and looking into Logan's eyes, Remy took a deep breath and asked, "You do, don't you? You know why I did it. You wanted me to, Logan." Standing up and looking over the small light's beam, Remy found a spark that he knew Logan would latch on to. "I am old, Logan. Old beyond your comprehension. I am drawn to you because you feel it too, don't you?"

"How old?"

Remy shook his head. What was he doing telling Logan this? "Let's just say, it wasn't so noisy out dere." Remy felt confined and found it hard to breathe so close to the man he had wanted for so long, so he walked around the living room, thinking of what to say next. When he was close to the bedroom, Remy found himself being aggressively pressed with his back against the wall next to the open bedroom door.

"You like guys, don't ya?"

A calm nod.

"You got funny ways of checkin people out, Cajun."

There was no response as Remy was released and simply stared at.

This time Logan was the first to make motion to the awkward moment by reaching out a hand and placing it on Remy's chest. He felt a surge of energy run through Remy's body. Inhaling the luscious scent, Logan stepped closer and blinked as the young, smooth face became more clearer. With another thunder clap and heavier rain pounding on the windows, Logan let his hand slip down and clasp around Remy's. As if both knew what was happening next, Logan slowly walked Remy around the corner and into his bedroom. 

Sitting down on the end of the bed and letting his hands run through the soft blue fuzz of the blanket, Remy inhaled and let Logan peel off the suit jacket and unbutton the black cotton shirt. Laying himself back, on the blanket, Remy watched as Logan began to strip away his own clothing and then move to retrieve something in the top drawer of his dresser. While Logan was busy with the small square package, Remy took the initiative and removed his pants. His eyes watched the man closely for any sign of falsehood but found there was none. 

By the next lightning flash, Logan was onto of the young Cajun. Mouth close to Remy's ear, shushing him and whispering soft nothing's to him as Logan's next movement captured all of Remy's attention and forced him to meet Logan's eyes as a hypnotic rhythm started. The soft kisses against Remy's neck and cheeks forced Logan to move himself faster and with more feeling. As the wetness hit his hand as he ran his fingers through the soft ginger color, Logan paused long enough to look at Remy and find the tears that fell from his eyes.

"What's the matter? Hurtin' ya?"

Remy shook his head and let his hands slither along Logan's sides and over his back. "Please. Continue."

As the passion mounted between them and fiery flames of lust and love crashed around them, Remy had started to whisper a mumbled version of words that didn't sound English, or any language Logan had ever heard. It wasn't until Logan came that the words became louder and gritted by lust. The tears flowed more freely as Remy lost himself and wrenched his eyes closed as he spilled more strange syllables and prayers out into the darkness of Logan's bedroom. Finally, before either knew it, sleep had claimed them beneath the fuzzy soft blue blanket with an ancient Aztec design on it.

Remy felt so warm and safe in Logan's arms but it took only the sense of sleep to crumble that feeling into nothingness. His dreams were that of his younger years, living years. 

He stood in the middle of a grassy field with several other men in dark cloaks and hoods while holding lanterns. Remy had been dressed a long white gown while his auburn hair blew frantically in the wind. The cold was choking him as his bare feet walked him down a long gravel path, into the center of a great stone structure. Looking around and only finding faceless hoods closing on him and forcing him down, against a stone in the middle, he found himself frozen with fear. Chills wracked his body as the blade of a ritualistic dagger was being pressed tip first along the thin material, stripping it away and exposing his lithe body to the elements. 

Hands held by the wrists and ankles being held by same, Remy again felt the tip of the blade and marked the words the men now chanted to the darkness with. N'a chentra ar t'uug. By the words being spoken, he could feel the dagger blade biting into him and tearing away his manhood. The pain was immense yet Remy couldn't speak or scream his pain. The next was a carving the dagger scraped into his chest before repeating the chant and cheering when the form appeared. 

The form had spoken to Remy in his tongue and explained to him what was to happen. With his arms and legs now free, the dark being helped Remy to stand and then placed a finger to the young man's forehead. Remy felt his eyes close and the world spin and grow noisy before slipping silent as he fell back to sleep on the green grass. Hours passed and Remy awoke to find himself alone with only a scroll lying on the very spot of the stone he was stolen to.

Remy sat up from his dream and glanced at himself under the blanket and then back to Logan's sleeping form. A curse to himself as he had broken the rule of his penance. Slipping from the bed and gathering his clothes, Remy dressed and slid from the apartment without a word of goodbye.

 

Continued.


	6. Chapter 6

Lying down on the motel room's bed, Remy stared at the ceiling and listened to the silence around him. The feel of the material against his back and hands had reminded him of rich texture of Logan's bed. He inhaled the scent that had never left his nose of the shorter, burly medic. Remy had wanted the moment to last for alot longer than just a night, he wanted a lifetime. His eyes slid closed and the inhales became deeper. 

She stood in the middle of the room. Pastel lavender hair blew straightly with a breeze that seemed to be only where she stood. Lavender bangs swept neatly to one side as her thin, youthful face grew harder with every second that he didn't come to attention at her presence. "Do you wish me to revoke your assignment?" Her long thin arms now folded across her chest and a toe tapped beneath her fresh pastel robes. Her hair caped around her arms and back as her mood steadily increased in anger.

Remy sat up and blinked his eyes, disbelievingly at her. "No," he shook his head. "I will handle this assignment." The features of the motel room fell away and left only vast darkness with the two inside it. Light came from somewhere above and only illuminated where they stood. He shuddered at the coldness from it. "I know I broke the rules but-" He was hushed as she began to speak.

"There is no but. You knowingly broke the rules to take on mortal form, and then allow yourself to be seen and touched by them. Not just one, but several. This is inexcusable. You are in penance, Thete, not a position to chose your bidding." She was the only one who reminded him who he really was, or had been. She spoke his name to snap him back to reality of his employment. Her tone of voice held back the anger but allowed her scoldings to escape on a more caring level. Throughout the centuries she was the voice of reason as he needed it. "You are no longer a mortal. Might I remind you of where I might place you if this happens a next time?"

The screaming pained sounds of Hell closed in on Remy. "No. I will complete my assignment." Hanging his head, Remy's mind fell on Logan and the shared embrace between them. He didn't like being reminded of what his job entailed. "I may have complications with the parents."

She tilted her head as the recognization of sorrow overcame him. "It is a part of life, Thete. In time, they will come to understand that it is for the better. Not all things end in a happy way." Leaning forward and raking a hand through his auburn hair, she smiled. "You have only five days to correct your selfishness and complete your assignment or you will not be dealing with my judgement." Blood red lips came to his temples as she kissed and recited the chants the Priests in flowing black and emerald robes once screamed into the air around him. Her thin hand disappeared into her robes and emerged with a small, rectangular glass vial filled with dark, thick, red elixir. "When it is complete, drink this and stand before me once again to choose your fate. I warn you, Thete. Choose false and there will be far worse torment than Hell at their hands."

Remy nodded and bowed, closing his eyes and reopening them to his motel room. The bed behind him and the door to the right, the window was left, with the curtains drawn, and had captured his attention. In his hand lay the vial in which he carefully tucked away into his left jacket pocket. Walking over to peer out of the swept aside curtain, Remy stared out at the wet, near morning town. His job was not to interfere but to wait and observe. That was the part he hated.

A long, hard yawn escaped him and finally giving it up for the next night, went to bed. Wrapping himself up in his warm blanket, he curled himself up, though fully clothed in his suit, and shut his eyes in the peace of the early morning.

\----------

Logan rolled over, the next afternoon, and found himself alone in the bed. He sat up and looked around for the missing youth. "Remy?" The apartment was quiet and empty. Logan sighed and threw the covers off of himself before getting up. The very last thing on his mind was putting anything on, and with the way the sun shone in, it was very easy for people across the street to see everything he wasn't wearing. Running a hand through his dark mop of hair, Logan went out into the living room and turned on the television to listen to the news while he fixed himself some cereal and coffee.

A note on the kitchen counter grabbed his attention as he retrieved a plastic bowl from the cabinet above the sink. His eyes glanced over it and noted the unique handwriting:

Logan,

I am sorry I cannot stay to see you in the daylight.  
This is not easy for me to do, and so late in the  
events. Perhaps we will see each other again soon.

I hope you understand.

Remy.

Logan replaced the note to its spot on the counter and went back to fixing his cereal. He had come to expect such impersonal notes from one-night flings but he thought he had seen the last with Remy. His heart sank deeper as he tried not to dwell on the words of the note as he put the milk back into the refrigerator.

"....and, power is back on, for some people, after a long night of brutal storms that slammed our city. The power outage affected more than 150 homes and businesses during the night......" One news anchor rambled on before turning the spotlight over to his co-anchor, a beautiful blonde woman in her mid-thirties. It was evident that the female anchor was the more awake of the pair, and had more exciting news than her co-anchor.

Sitting down on the sofa with the bowl of cereal, Logan shoved a spoonful of flakes into his mouth and chewed as he seemed detached by the news of a missing poodle and the elderly woman who pleaded for people to help find her companion. As he shoved another spoonful into his mouth, the phone rang. "Yea?" Swallowing the mouthful after chewing and listening to the other end, he had forgotten he was to come in early that day. "Sorry Cora, my power went out in the storm, last night. Yea, I'm about to hop into the shower and get down there." He choked on his last swallow as she told him that there was a string of calls due to downed street lights and homes that were still without power. "Give me 25. I'm on my way." Hanging up and standing up to click the television off with the remote before setting his bowl down beside the sink, Logan hurried into the shower and then threw his uniform on. As he ran to leave, he detoured into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee for the road.

Rushing down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator, Logan's cell phone rang from a number that he rarely ever saw. "Yea, Z?" He pushed the door to the parking level open and headed for his truck. Logan and Zeke had been almost twins, sharing feelings, thoughts, experiences, and running late.

"Hey, just got a call about some kids draggin' on a back road. I'm downstairs, get down here and let's go." Zeke figured he would beat Logan to the punch at driving in already frustrated traffic, and then meeting up only to be late to a severe scene.

Logan shut his truck door and turned around to head back to the elevator. "Give me a minute. I'm at my truck, now." Logan ended the call and hurried up to the main floor lobby and out to jump into the waiting ambulance. "Thanks, Z."

Zeke hit the lights and siren and pulled out into traffic. "The good thing is that the scene is only a few miles down the road from you. The bad thing is, I get a funny feeling this won't be a good day."

Cam had popped out of the back with a greeting to Logan before telling Zeke that he had finished doing the log updates from the busy past few days. "Never expected door-to-door service eh, Logan?"

A deep breath from Logan as he tossed Cam a blank look.

\------------

Logan hopped out of the passenger side of the ambulance and quickly surveyed the scene. Slamming the door shut and hurrying over to the car, he barked orders for the other two to check on the victims that were outside of the wrecked car. Turning to the lead detective and asking the man coming towards him what had happened, Logan had already had some sort of idea before the man answered. He stared at a flashing tail light as the detective went through his notes. His eyes came across the two teenaged boys sitting on a curb, in the glow of a police car's tail lights, just passed the wreck.

"Witnesses from the mall down the road, said these two kids," waving a hand at the scratched and dazed teens behind the car, "and three others, were draggin' down the road with another car. The driver was killed on impact while two more were thrown. They landed over there." The detective pointed to the direction opposite of the police cars and ambulance. "Your driver's taking care of them."

Zeke stood up from crouching over one of the boys and turned to look over his shoulder for Logan. "Chief!" Zeke waved a hand in the air, acknowledging that he wanted Logan to join him. "You need to see this!" He went back to crouching over the boy and checked for a pulse that was fading as the seconds ticked away.

"What do ya got, Z?"

"You'd better have your phone in your hand, Logan." The sullen driver looked up at his friend and tried to make it as easy as possible on Logan as he could. "Sharon shouldn't have to hear it from the E.R. techs."

Logan's heart pounded in his chest like a freight train. He couldn't breathe or move but, he had to know what the driver had noticed about one of the boys on the ground. "Just tell- no. It ain't." Logan sniffed at the air that thickened in his nostrils. A cold shiver ran down his back as he brought up the courage to look down and see the face he had told himself not to see. "Corey." He sank to his knees and looked the barely conscious boy over out of habit. "Did you check the other kid out?"

"Yes. I radioed for a copter. They'll be okay, if we can get them to the General in time."

Logan nodded absently. "Keep an eye on them, I'm gonna check on the driver." Standing up and reaching for his phone, in his pants pocket, Logan took it out and quickly dialed Sharon's number. "Darlin, Logan. I need you to call me back, right now. You won't like it but, I got news you won't want to miss." Hanging up and walking back over to the car, Logan went around to the driver's side and knelt down. As the car was on its back and the windows, plus the windscreen, had been mostly broken out, Logan reached through and tried to humanly open the door before getting frustrated and finally using his claws to slice the door off its crushed hinges.

The door fell back and Logan moved out of the way to lay it down, he then tended to the boy inside and made sure the driver was deceased before standing up and waving Cam over to help him. "The other two gonna survive?"

"Yea, they already gave the cops their statements. Detective Simmons is about to take them down to booking. They're just shook up and a bit bruised. They're gonna be worse when their parents find out." Cam glanced up and over to where Zeke was now helping the second medical team with the two boys who were thrown. "Corey?"

"Z said he's breathin." Reaching in and unlatching the seat belt, Logan let the driver's body rest on his as he and Cam worked together to get the driver out of the overturned '87 gray Cadillac. "Let's get him to the morgue." Logan stared at the young man who had barely hit 17, and shook his head at the wasted youth and carelessness of adolescence that had nearly cost four more innocent lives, including that of his son's.

Cam nodded and helped get the body onto the board before silently loading it into the ambulance. "Chief?"

"Yea, kid?" Logan was already tired and weighted down from worry but had decided to listen to the rookie's thoughts.

"He'll be okay. I know it." Cam had sat down on the bench, in the back of the ambulance, and turned to face Logan as the older man hopped out of the back and readied to shut the doors.

Logan didn't answer. The shock had caught up to him and he felt the air in his lungs was being sucked out each second he dwelled on the thoughts of the accident. For once in the past few days, Logan found himself not thinking at all about Remy, or where he was and why he was nowhere in sight at the scene. He had only wanted to redo the day over and make sure Corey wasn't one of the victims, but he found the past events etched in permanent ink. Without a word, Logan slammed the doors shut and walked around to climb back into the passenger seat before telling Zeke to drive. A heavy sigh escaped him, and the tightness of reality made his chest and head pound with such force that he just wanted to scream and rip something apart but he found he was only ripping himself apart over something that was out of his control altogether.

Continued.


	7. Chapter 7

The yellow and blue taxi pulled up alongside the sliding doors to the emergency room and paused while the lady in the backseat paid the driver and hastily got out, shutting the door behind her. The heels to her peach shoes clicked and clacked as she hurried through the doors, looking for a familiar face to be waiting for her. She caught sight of the small, hairy man coming out of the waiting room and waving to her. "Logan! Logan what happened? Where's my son?" The questions poured out of her mouth as the two met and hugged each other. "Is he alright? I want to see my baby." Her brown hair had been pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her head and sprayed heavily. Her peach dress suit was slightly wrinkled from sitting in her office all day and then the movement of taking a cab to the hospital due to losing her car keys in all the excitement.

Logan hushed her as best he could but had to raise his voice to silence her completely. "Sharon! He's okay. He's in surgery now and the doctor said he should pull through. Calm down." Holding her arms and forcing her eyes to look into his, they took a deep breath together. "He should be out in a bit." He led her back to the waiting area and stopped at the water fountain for a cup of cool water to calm her down with. "Traffic okay?"

They sat on a small, vinyl sofa for two. The waiting room had only a few other people in it besides them. After a sip and another deep breath, Sharon exhaled and stared at the floor, thinking of terrible dangers her only child might have faced. "I uh- took a cab. Couldn't find my keys." Another sip as the coolness of the water worked slowly to calm her shaking nerves.

"Couldn't find yer keys. Okay, well, let's have a look in yer bag, okay?" Keeping his voice low and calm, he gently placed her shoulderbag between them and unzipped it. The faded denim material relaxed as Logan spread it open and began to look through it. He pulled out her wallet and separate coin purse and a package of folded tissues, setting them on her lap. "Here they are, all the way at the bottom." Logan held them up to show her that she hadn't lost them at the office and smiled reassuringly at her shaken expression. Replacing the other items into her bag, he zipped it and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders as they waited for a doctor.

Sharon had finished the water in the small paper cup and let Logan take it from her as he crumpled it up and tossed it into the small plastic wastebasket, next to the water fountain, a few steps from where they sat.

A tall, thin female doctor in white scrubs stepped out of a set of automatic doors and glanced around the room. "Ms. Abbott?" The paper hat covering her hair was dampened around the forehead from sweat and the face mask had been pulled down prior to coming into the waiting room. Her brown eyes stopped on the couple getting up from the small sofa on the other side of the room and coming towards her. "Ms. Abbott, I'm Doctor Vaughn, the attending surgeon. We've set his injuries and stitched him up. He does have a small concussion and due to the extent of his injuries, we've had to sedate him for now. We would like to keep him here for a few days for observation."

Sharon nodded and thanked the doctor before the physician turned and walked back through the automatic doors. She turned back to Logan, who stood beside her, and opened her mouth to speak and was shocked when the words hadn't formed right away. "I should go sign him in."

Logan nodded and looked down at the keys he still held in his hand. "I tell ya what, I'll have Z drop me off at the office, and then I'll come back here and take you home for some rest. I'll call ya if there's any change, okay?"

"No. I'm not leaving him alone, Logan. I can't."

"Okay. I'll go get the car, stop by the house and pick up some things for you. You can take tonight, and I'll take tomorrow. We'll do it in shifts, alright?" For once, Logan had been glad his EMT training was paying off. It was about the only thing that was keeping both of them sane.

When she agreed with that idea, Logan escorted her to the front desk and then kissed her cheek before radioing Zeke to bring the ambulance around. The next step he had to make was to call Cora and let her know about the schedule change. He only hoped that Cam and Zeke could handle a night or two on their own.

\-----------

Logan sat in a chair, on the other side of the darkened hospital room, and dozed while listening to Corey breathe and the incessant noises of the machines that surrounded the headboard. His chin was propped up on his hand as his elbow kept balance on the arm of the chair. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions but it was letting him sleep. His legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles had become stiff from lack of movement and every once in a while, his right hand that rest on his belt buckle would twitches from the cold air being switched on. 

The dark figure in a pressed black suit stood in the doorway and looked at the scene before moving into the room. Remy's eyes fell across the sleeping medic in the chair and again on the comatose boy in the bed. A sigh as he was reminded of why he was there and a step into the room caused Logan to stir but not wake. Making his way to the side of the bed closest to the door and reaching out his hand to place it on the young man's arm, he was halted by a throat clearing and a man getting up to come towards the bed.

"Unless yer a doctor as well, I'd back up away from him."

Remy sighed but kept his gaze fixed on the comatose boy. "I am not here to harm him, Logan."

"No?"

"No." Remy now stood beside the bed and looked over at Logan, who stood in the shadows. "The damage has already been done. I am merely here to help him move on." To show Logan he was in good faith, he placed his hands behind his back, holding his wrist.

It wasn't in Logan's nature to believe people outright that they meant no harm to another so Remy should have understood when he stepped forward and placed his hand on the bedrail on his side of the bed. "What do you mean yer 'here to help him move on'? You'd better start tellin me just who you are, bub." He moved to the end of the bed as Remy backed up slowly towards the door. 

"I cannot."

"Try." Logan took a step closer to him.

Remy had always taken care of maintaining his secret but it was becoming impossible to do with Logan since Logan was another breed of man. "I was someone a long, long time ago." He stood firm in the middle of the floor even when Logan stepped closer and pressed him against the wall by the open door.

"I want to know just who you are now, or I'll make you a 'was' again." Three claws released and pressed three points into black silk dress shirt Remy wore.

Looking neither startled or upset, Remy agreed. "As you wish." He took a breath and released it slowly before telling the man in easiest of fashions, "I am death." 

Logan resheathed his claws and took a step back, uncertain of the man in black attire. "Death, huh?"

A calm nod.

"No black robes or scythe? Or don't you carry them anymore?"

Remy sighed and brushed the wrinkles out of his jacket. "Scythe and cloak on a black horse, we like to keep those to particularly wretched souls who do not pass to Heaven. The child is an innocent; therefore, he deserves respect on his journey." He could feel that Logan didn't believe him but it hadn't bothered him. After all, he wasn't in his line of work to be believed in, he was only the deliverer.

Scoffing, Logan glanced at Remy and then to the heart monitor that beeped steadily. "Do me and yourself a favor, step into a padded room and close the door. Reality'll be along in a while."

Remy ignored Logan's comment and listened to the sounds on the intercom. "Come with me, Logan. I wish to show you something." Holding out a hand for Logan to take, he waited patiently as the skeptical medic came to stand beside him. "Relax, Logan. I merely wish to prove to you who I am." Taking Logan by the wrist, they walked a few steps out of Corey's room and disappeared from Intensive Care only to reappear in the Maternity Ward. 

\------------

"What're we doin here?" Logan asked, half amused.

Remy pointed to a young mother laboring, nurses holding her hands and telling her to push while the doctor busied himself at the foot of the bed, waiting for the birth. He stood there calmly and watched a small pulsing heart, above the woman's head, fading slowly. No one else had been able to see the tiny icon but the two bystanders, and even Logan was watched disbelievingly. 

Logan wanted to say something but Remy had only gripped his wrist and held a pale finger to his lips.

"One more push, Lucy!" An older woman in casual clothes under blue scrubs cheered as she stood behind her daughter's right side. The woman looked tired and weathered, as did her daughter who was tiring rapidly and sweating profusely. "That's it! Keep pushing, sweetie! You're doing great!"

Lucy gave one last push and breathed a relieved sigh as the baby was finally out and being cleaned. Her mother congratulated her and kissed her temple before turning to transfer the baby from a nurse to her daughter's arms. She felt heavy and completely drained of all strength. Staring down into the tiny face, she whispered something and then reclined back, closing her eyes. The tiny icon above her head flickered a pulse and was gone, as was the young mother.

The room filled with screams from the tiny bundle in the grandmother's arms as the doctor and nurses worker feverishly to revive the young woman. The tiny icon above the baby's head had pulsed furiously and Logan thought it would burst. The baby seemed to calm when a frail, translucent hand stroked it's tiny cheek. 

Lucy had taken shape, standing on her own and looking healthy, coming towards the two men. She smiled at Remy as he smiled back and nodded to her. As she came within two feet of them, she disappeared. 

"Pretty good card trick. Is that all you got as proof?"

Remy turned to face him and smiled. "Of course not. People like you are hard to satisfy." He pointed to a room to the left of Logan. 

A darkened room with only a sleeping woman in her 30s and a plastic bassinet beside her. The woman had turned away from the tiny cooing child. The pulsing heart above his head was fading. The boy cooed louder and became more frightened when no one came to it's side. He was hungry and his mother paid no attention to him. His father had gone to eat something and make calls home about the birth but his mother had wanted nothing to do with the baby at all.

Logan stepped forward and Remy grasped his arm against the movement. "It's just a baby. He doesn't deserve a mother who won't love it as she should."

"True. But it is not your decision to make, Logan." Remy's stomach turned at these journeys.

Logan turned around and glared at Remy. "Yer just gonna stand there and let that innocent baby die? It needs love and attention, not death." Shaking the hand off of his arm, Logan snarled.

Remy blinked in the same somber tone he had been in the entire trip. "It is not my job to give someone the care that child needs, Logan."

"You mean, you won't do anything."

"I am not Cupid. Just wait." Remy nodded to the elevator at the end of the hall. 

The doors to the elevator had opened and the father held a bag of food in one hand and a cup of cold juice in the other. The child's cries grew louder, loud enough for the father to hear and for him to quicken his pace to the room. Setting the food and drink down, on the small tray, at the end of the bed, he scooped up the child and cradled it as the baby hushed its cries in time for the fading icon above its head to flicker and brighten with love.

Logan stood there, perplexed about what Remy had said and what just happened. "You said you weren't Cupid. Another lie?"

A faint smile spread across Remy's lips as he watched the father coddle the baby. "That was not my doing, Logan. I do not feel love or kindness. I cannot give a mortal what I do not have myself. My job is to guide mortal souls to the afterlife."

Coming to stand toe to toe with Remy, Logan snarled and pointed behind him. "Then what do you call that? ESP?" His temper was quickly evaporating and Remy's calmness was getting on his nerves.

"No." For the first time that evening, Remy was beginning to lose his cool. "When a loved one has a strong bond, no matter how old or new the bond is, that soul calls out to their loved ones in time of dire need. Sometimes it works and sometimes the will to live is not strong enough to survive on love alone. That is what happened."

Scoffing again, Logan wrinkled his nose at the man in black. "Yer full of shit. You expect me to believe that you're Death and that yer here to take Corey to the afterlife?"

Remy nodded.

"Go fuck yerself. You aren't gonna touch a hair on my kid's head."

"You cannot stop what is already written, Logan. This is my job, it is not what I want to do but what I have to do." Remy was starting to become impatient with the short-fused medic.

Logan had had enough. Grabbing hold of Remy's lapels, he whirled the taller man around and pressed him against the wall, releasing both sets of claws, letting the tips rest against the underside of Remy's porcelain jaw. "Stay the fuck away from me and my family, or so help me, I'll send you back to whatever nothingness you slithered out of. Got it?" A loud growl erupted from him as he met Remy's cool ruby on obsidian orbs. Retracting his claws and releasing the other man, Logan thought it best to calm down and walk away before he gave Remy a reason to be in the hospital.

Not answering in words or expression, Remy merely let the medic walk away and go back to Corey's room without him. He sighed and shook his head as he knew the final outcome. Watching Logan's back as the man walked away, Remy couldn't help but remember a man from his own past, resembling the scruffy young medic who just stepped into the elevator.

 

Continued.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been two whole days since Logan last saw the young man who claimed to be Death incarnate. Each time his shift ended and he was safely in his own apartment, in bed, he breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he didn't believe the eerily calm lad but he couldn't accept that Remy was anyone but a young Cajun who narrowly escaped death and now -somehow- felt responsible for the fragile lives of other people. With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he rolled onto his left side and stared at the red numbers on the clock and prayed for his exhaustion to kick in so he could wake up and see Corey staring back at him from his hospital bed.

His dreams came at strange intervals. It was hard for Logan to distinguish what was fact from what he saw in his mind's eye: 

Remy.   
Grass.   
Gray sky.   
Red.   
Wetness.   
Remy.   
Grass field.   
Stonehenge?   
Druids.   
Fire.   
Remy.   
Stone house.   
Kiss?   
Smile.  
Shun.  
Scream.

The sound of the alarm clock was enough to break the speeding cycle of Logan's perplexing dreams. Slapping the button to silence the news show, Logan sat up and rubbed at his eyes before opening them to his bedroom. It was still dark but he knew it was morning by the way his head still felt the heaviness of sleep. A ragged breath and a glance around the room for anything out of place, just to maintain his position in sanity, had him thinking about what his mind was trying to tell him about Remy. 

Logan slipped out of bed and shuffled his way to the kitchen to turn the coffeepot on. He yawned and focused on the glass decanter that was quickly filling with the black liquid as his brain showed him the tall, cold, stone figure of Stonehenge once again. Logan had never been to England yet he could see the large stones, caked in red, on a cloudy gray backdrop morning. He could feel the grass beneath his bare feet, even though he stood on white tile in his kitchen. 

His cell phone rang from his bedside table. Logan hurried back into his bedroom to catch the call before the other person hung up. "Hello?" Zeke told Logan about the short staff and Logan had agreed to help, as soon as he had some coffee and a shower. "Give me about 45, still have to wake up." As he hung up, the coffee was done and he had to hurry to drink a cup before heading into the shower. 

The shower only lasted half of his normal time yet he spent the full time thinking about what his dream meant and why Remy was in it. Logan stood there and stared at himself in the mirror, the towel around his waist and his hair a mess from the towel dry. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before blinking and reaching for his toothbrush. Brushing his teeth, combing his hair and hurrying to pull his uniform from the dryer, Logan shook his white shirt since he wasn't the type to own an iron. As he rinsed his mouth out, he slipped his pants on and buttoned his shirt before grabbing his socks and shoes and rushing out the door to meet Zeke in the lobby.

\--------------

"Dammit!" Logan shouted out of frustration. The CPR exercises hadn't worked to revive the blonde teenaged woman who had crossed a busy street while being burnt out on meth. "Get the paddles! Cam, standby with the blankets, she's gonna be in shock when she wakes up." His mind was racing in several different directions and he was only hoping that he was making sense in his judgements. When he looked up and expected to see Cam and the paddles, he was thrown off-balance by the young man in black who stood there so calmly. "What do you want? As if I really need to ask."

Remy knelt down and calmly glanced down at the beaten and battered girl. He sighed and blinked as he refocused on the EMT. "It's time to let her go, Logan. There is nothing you can do for her now." His vision steadied on the gruff tech that didn't bother to make eye contact.

Logan only growled, "get the fuck outta my way. You can't have her yet, you fucking ambulance chaser! Cam!" The wind blew a light breeze that hadn't helped much in cooling the tech who hadn't bothered taking off his jacket when he first arrived on scene. He had noticed that the breeze had slowed as it blew across his face yet he hadn't taken the time to figure out why. The sounds of the vehicles whirring by had also come to a slower pace. Everything around him had slowed almost to a halt but Logan, and now the tall figure across from him, had continued their normal speed.

Even though it was a visible slap in the face, Remy stood his ground and asked again, "Logan there is nothing your medicine can do for her now. Your job is to save the lives of those you can. My job is to ferry those you can't. Please let her go."

A snarl should have told Remy to back up but the message was lost in translation. "You stay the fuck away from her! If I can't stop your sick fuckin' hobby, maybe I can slow you down." He started the CPR compressions again. Yelling for either tech to help him wasn't doing anything. In fact, when he did look up, he noticed that everyone seemed to be in slow gear. 

"The only thing you are trying to postpone is her journey to the next level. Logan, I will not ask you again. Let me do my job." The next moment was not something he had expected. It had never happened before so his expression of complete and utter shock was sincere enough to seep into Logan's feral thoughts as their eyes met. Remy knew humans had evolved into desperate, uncontrollable monsters but he had never thought the EMT would leap over the patient, knock Remy back onto the pavement and bury three very sharp claws into his chest. Regaining composure as his eyes forced their calmness into Logan's, Remy only breathed and stared up at the man as he lay on the side of the road.

The claws removed themselves from Remy's chest and Logan sat back to gather his thoughts on what he had done. "Stay away from me and my job."

Remy sat up and brushed the dust off of his suit jacket before standing up to finish the rest of the suit. When he was finished, he straightened himself and looked very calmly at the tech that went back to the girl. "Very well. I will be back when you can accept that your simple threats cannot stop my job."

When Logan turned back around from having his back to Remy, he found that he was alone and back into real time. The girl was being treated by Zeke but nothing had worked. Logan felt like he was in a daze instead of fighting with Death over one misguided soul that he knew would never make it back to life. 

Reality came back to knock Logan off his feet and realize what he had done; he had just threatened Death, and survived. His exhale was enough to catch the attention of the driver.

"Welcome back, chief. You feeling all right?" The driver made sure he caught Logan's eye as Logan had been sitting in a daze over the girl, for about five minutes.

"Yeah. Uh, how's she doin?"

Zeke had started to put the equipment away and only shook his head as he glanced up to check Logan's state of mind. "She didn't have a chance." Pulling a white sheet over her, Zeke motioned for Logan to help him get the board into the wagon. The gravel under the flimsy wheels was the only thing to keep Logan's mind on his job. Collapsing the gurney and lifting it up into the back turned Zeke's attention away from Logan but when he had turned back, he noticed a look he had never seen on Logan; fear. "You sure you feel okay, Logan? You got that look in your eye that says we're not lookin' at the same scene."

Logan cleared his throat and shrugged off an answer as he shut the back doors and made his way around to the passenger side door. Getting in and shutting the door, he buckled up and turned to look out the window at the spot where he had spent a lifetime at. "Did uh, you see anyone out of the ordinary there, Z?" Praying the fight with the black-clothed youth was only in his head, he hadn't bothered to see the worried expression on the driver's face as the vehicle started up.

"Nope, just you, chief. That afternoon sun gettin' to ya, again?"

\----------------

The room was dark except for the bedlight behind Corey's head. Logan sat on an uncomfortable chair at the opposite side of the room, his legs had been propped up on the arm of another chair and his head rest against the wall as he dozed quietly. A nurse had draped a blanket over him and then checked Corey's unchanged vitals. 

The figure at the doorway leaned against the frame with his hands in his pockets, staring casually at Logan. This time Remy hadn't been concerned with his deadline -now that it had passed- but he had been more concerned with why Logan was holding onto the frail, inconsistent, anchored form that life was. He stared at the smaller man, watching each rise and fall of Logan's barreled chest and the flutter of thin eyelids that shaded the eyes that saw a millennia before in dreams. 

Remy had spent an hour standing there before Logan twitched and shifted. He had only wished that Logan would come to his senses and let go. 

_Logan found himself walking from the center of a quaint cobblestone and hay built village back to his small, shack-like hut at the end of the village. He stopped before the doorstep and smiled up at the young carpenter he had hired to help fix the leaking roof. His fruit sack had been filled with fruits and vegetables fresh from harvest picking and he reached in and tossed up a red apple that was greatly accepted._

_The rains had stopped for the day but it had been overcast for a week with no chance of sunlight to admire the scrapping, young man in. Logan stared up at the auburn hair and brown eyes with a beautiful smile to match and felt himself grin and blush as he waved the worker down for lunch and a chat. "Come for something to eat. I have fresh breads and fruits!"_

_The young man smiled even more and made his way to the sturdy makeshift ladder around the side of the hut. He noticed that the wooden shutters were closed for the middle of the day. As he continued around to the door, he took a bite of the apple he had caught and knocked on the open door. "Are your shutters stuck, sir? I can fix them for you, if you wish?" The older man had caught sight of the young carpenter in the doorway as the young man spoke._

_Logan laughed and waved the boy into the one-room hut. He had already been busy placing the fruits and breads on the small table that sat in the middle of the room and was now motioning to an empty chair across from his. "Though I enjoy the light of day at a normal, the day has not been so light." A candle had been lit and placed in the middle of the table and Logan grinned at the handsome face that basked in the glow._

_A moment later, the two men writhed with passion underneath the thin blanket on Logan's bed. Long, thin legs spread to let the shorter man rest between them as the two men moved together in tight, panting rhythms. Bare skin and sweat flashed their movements in the flicker of the candle. Thin fingers clawed at strong muscles in the older man's back while whispers of love and lust echoed softly in each other’s ears._

_Lifting his head up for air, the moment of ecstasy was replaced with a howl of utter sadness and desperation. The two lovers had been separated by an angry mob that tore at Logan's tunic and pants as they bound him in chains and pushed him forward to be burned on a large pyre in the center of the village. "Thete! No! He is innocent!" Logan heard his own voice being silenced as the noises of the angry mob rose higher and higher as the flames surrounded him. "Thete!"_

_Logan hadn't paid any attention to the flames that licked at his ankles and sucked at the material on his body. Instead, his eyes stared only at the young man who was being bound and pulled out of the village by hooded figures. Their eyes had met and their voices called to each other yet Logan couldn't hear the young voice over his own intense, pained shrieks. He could feel the heat from the fire and smell the burnt flesh that rose into the night air._

_"Thete!"_

Logan sat up with a start and glanced around the room before making eye contact with the dark form standing in the doorway. His panting was taking longer to subside as he recognized the outline of the young man he had threatened that afternoon. "Isn't there an elsewhere you need to be?" His teeth ground out of frustration and an odd sense of guilt and remorse as he broke eye contact with Remy.

"If you had let me do my job, Logan, you would not have to remember what I look like."

"Get lost already."

"I cannot."

"What the Hell does that mean?"

Remy pushed himself off of the frame and placed his hands behind his back. "It means, you have caused my deadline to pass and now, I am here to ask you once more to let me do my job. Then, you can be rid of me." It hurt to say it but he found that this was not the same man he had come to love in his own lifetime.

Logan stood up and tossed the blanket onto the chair as he made his way to Corey's bedside. "Deadline, huh? You sound like a damn lawyer. Is that all life is to you? Just a cold, heartless job? What do you get outta the deal?"

"Peace."

To be continued.


	9. Chapter 9

"Why do you hesitate in your duties, Thete?" The young woman in pastel robes was once again in Remy's hotel room, tapping her foot as she stood at the end of his bed. Lavender hair dangled limply around her face and her longish bangs sheltered her bright sapphire eyes. "This mortal cares nothing of you, only the child that he cannot save. End their suffering for them to heal and move on." Her gaze fell upon Remy's forlorn expression and her brow furrowed in sympathy.

Remy hadn't moved or made any attempt to answer. Instead, he only turned his head to look at her as she had come over and sat down beside him on the side of the bed. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, in wonder. He thought about all of the befores that came through the centuries. And then he thought about how Logan was now, unwilling to follow the flow of history.

The young woman placed a hand on his chest and softened her gaze to a smile as she spoke next to him. "Do you wish me to aid you?" Round, wet sapphire orbs studied Remy's face more closely now that she sat next to him. "What makes this so hard for you? Clearly, you are not afraid of what jeopardy you place yourself in by disobeying. Do you ache for what was instead of what can be?"

"He may have been mine long ago but, I cannot bring myself to take something from Logan and not make sure he is alright." Finally speaking yet turning away as to avoid persecution, Remy let his hands feel the smooth material of the blanket beneath him. His auburn hair was long enough to fall back onto the crisp white pillow. 

She had been watching Remy closely enough but hadn't paid attention to his surrounding patrons. Through the centuries, Remy had been her commitment that she felt obligated to understand everything about. She had been frustrated with him when he was brand new but over the decades and coming to terms with his penance, he had become a favored fixture in her duties. "Come, I would like to ease your troubles, if you will permit?" Standing up and holding out a patient hand for him to take, she waited for him to stand beside her. "We all have a time to part this Earth, Thete. None may decide more or less than when they pass. We must not interfere, only escort our charges to their destination."

"It is not the boy's time." Remy growled under his breath. He stood beside her and reflected on watching Logan in the hospital, with his son.

"You have followed this young man throughout time, wondering if you would be his mate, again. Though, you may believe he cares nothing of you now, what makes you sure he did not care for you as time passed?" With her hand lightly holding his, she traced an invisible circle in front of them with her free hand and both disappeared from the room.

\-------------

1428

Two knights jousted in the open field, lances were long and steady as the horses aimed for the other at the end of a far ride. Valiant steeds raced towards one another, never slowing as the loud and shrill sound of metal-tipped lances stabbed at the steel breastplates of their heavy riders.

A tall and muscular knight with shined silver armor fell from horseback and landed on his hands and knees in the dirt beside the separation barrier. The loud grunt of anger was buried under the heavy Bassinet helmet as the rider forced himself up to his feet and yanked off the headpiece. But a boy lurked underneath; flawless handsome features of a man of 18, yet hair the length of a maiden-long auburn satin. Brown eyes flared at his opponent as he tossed the helmet to his Page and impatiently waited for his sword. Angry words were shouted to the still mounted and waiting knight. "Get down and fight like a man!"

Unfalteringly, the second knight swung himself down from the horse and slapped it on the ass, sending the steed back to its handler. Removing his helmet and sneering at the brash young knight, the opposer tapped blades to announce his readiness. Black hair, damp by sweat, gleamed in the hot sun light of afternoon. Blue eyes settled calmly on his young opposer. Both taking a fighting stance but the elder letting the younger wear himself out in battle. 

With the fight ending in the young knight's mortal wounding, the king had been furious to see his son not use his wound to his advantage but only lie on his back amidst the dirt and stare, panting, at his bester.

"Lie there! Be glad I don't run you through, boy," the older knight snarled and walked away.

Much later that night, a knock on the young knight's door shook him awake and out of bed. Padding over to the door as he held his bandaged left shoulder, he opened it to find his lover -the older knight- cleaned up and awaiting entry. He smiled and was instantly scooped up in an embrace that carried him from the closing door back to the feather bed.

1564

Two gondoliers pass each other under the Ponte Cestius, in Rome. One stopped while the other continued with its fare. Auburn hair whipped wildly in the early morning breeze. The man of 20 turned to look for prying eyes but found none other than his adoring fare the lounged at the other end of the gondola. 

The royal fare waved the man over and smiled as he patted the cushion next to him. 

Obeying his royal request, the young man laid down and was immediately covered by the older, charismatic visiting king. Divesting both men's clothes, the king covered them in his heavy, purple robe and made mad, silly love to the young tour guide. Kisses splayed and wet promises dripped huskily into ears before both screamed out in heat, claiming their love for one another.

As they dressed, the king smoothed his black hair and replaced his yellow tunic and aqua pants while the young laborer sat hidden under the robe, watching. "Take me with you, Majesty." Peering eyes stared adoringly from under the robe. "Each time you visit is too far between." Silky soft voice caressed the chilly morning air. He hadn't moved to dress but waited for the king to turn back to face him.

"No." Came the gruff reply.

The young man sighed and accepted his position of lower stature.

Finally, the king turned and gingerly reached out for a kiss. "My queen has taken ill, as of late. She has become more suspicious of me."

A sullen nod. Downcast eyes.

Another soft kiss. "I will come for you, soon."

1730- Scotland. A lazy, high society coach makes its way through the tall trees of Muckairn Woods. The early morning Spring sun spilled its gold down into the mossy green forest. Two young men sat inside the coach, on either side, grinning coyly at one another. The coach hobbled along down the dirt path and with each bump and jolt, the smiles became wider and more playful.

1816- Paris. Two men snuggling in a small hotel room, in front of the fireplace that roared with heat. The night had been so dark and cold but the room was warm and breathing with lust and passion. While the winter blizzard ravaged the town outside, the mad passion of the two plain gentlemen rushed against the shores of their bodies on the bearskin rug, in front of the fire.

1945- Iwo Jima. Different uniforms pressed together, hidden in a deep foxhole that had been abandoned by American forces. As bullets flew and canons burst with loud, deafening noises, two soldiers told their stories of back-home girlfriends and pending families, knowing this would be their last comfort. Tanks roared by as bombers screamed across the evening sky. The bodies and souls under the different uniforms became one, each telling of love for the other man while destruction closed in on their bliss.  
When the dust of gunfire and dirt cleared from the trench, the two interwoven bodies lay there, peacefully. The dark-haired man had been shot a number of times while the auburn-haired beauty beneath him had only one, between the eyes. Seeing his new love fall without even a round fired, himself, the dark-haired man had gone into frenzied movements. 

The enemy had surrounded the foxhole and fired unwaiveringly into it. 

Weapon jammed, body punctured and leaking red, he fell forward and crawled his way back to his love. Climbing atop, as if to protect him in death. Brown eyes had been kept open, head turned to the side, waiting for the last kiss from the blue-eyed man before joining the other in death. Their eyes met and a kiss with a last breath.

\---------------

Their final stop was in the bathroom of Logan's apartment. Logan was in the shower, washing away the tensions of the day. He pounded on the walls with his fists and cursed under his breath of situations that had played on over the days. Growling to himself and nearly tearing apart the washcloth, as he grabbed it from the shelf behind him, Logan reached for the soap bottle and clutched it so hard there was little force behind placing the liquid on the cloth.

They stood there, in the middle of the room, and watched through the glazed glass door as the man soaped and scowered himself until blood came from the harsh texture of the yellow sponge.

Logan knelt in his small stall, next to the bathtub, closing his eyes and letting the hot water pour down over him. He sat there, soaping his body and paying more attention to his genitals than the rest of his lower half. Panting and stroking and soaping and panting and tensing before whispering Remy's name. Tears came as he stroked harder out of frustration and need than lust. The name he repeated out of tenderness and passion as if carrying a conversation of the name with the water of the shower.

As Logan reached up and turned the water cold, he sighed a low whisper of apology to his somewhat absent foe. The tears came freely and more heavy as he stood up and turned his face towards the spray. The days of tension and anger and worry drained from his body as the hot water cooled to a chill. Hands gripped the walls to the side and in front for support but his head hung in merciless shame until his body was shivering from the cold spray. 

Sapphire eyes looked on with sadness. "Do you truly believe he does not want or need you in this lifetime? Are you certain he would die himself to keep his child alive?" She hadn't needed to turn around to see the red glow dim amongst the blackness of his eyes. Her own life of the Egyptian royalty had been plagued with shame and betrayal so, it had been no wonder that instead of outright reprimanding him, she took interest in letting him deal with his past.

"The boy should not die for Logan to bury."

Her head turned to stare at him. "However, you wish to be the one he lays next to at night. His small village casted out a poor, wandering young man and sent your love to the fiery depths, didn't they? It was your soul that chose your path, after that. When I came to you, on that night, I saw what this very day brought." She turned back to Logan, who had turned off the water, opened the door to grab his cheery yellow towel and began to dry himself off.

Remy now turned to her and waited for the finishing statement. "What is the answer?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Why not?"

With a wave of her hand, Logan and his bathroom had disappeared and had been replaced with complete blackness. She now stood before him, expressionless. "That is for you to decide." A blink and a soft smile left him back in his motel room, alone.

 

To be continued....


	10. Chapter 10

At the end of a somewhat quiet street, a fire raged out of control. It had started on the second floor but no one knew just how. The entire upstairs had been engulfed in flames that now inched its way downward to the first floor. A window at the back of the house, on the second floor, blew and gave the already heated blaze more fuel to completely break down and burn to cinders the brand new baby bed the family had just finished setting up. A nice white-siding, two-storey house that the small but growing family had only purchased several months prior was now on the verge of being non-existent. The walls had been colored black with the smoke and orange with by the flames. What had been the green and fertile front lawn was now being turned to mud and ruin by the many spectators and emergency crews.

A total of four police cars, two fire trucks with seven firefighters each, two ambulances with three medics each, all with red and blue lights lighting the end of the street had become the center of attention in the wee hours of the morning on a Tuesday. One fire hose was there for controlling the blaze so that it didn't spread to the neighbouring homes and yards while the other was there to put out the fire.

With only a few months to spare in her pregnancy, the mother stood safely outside and watched as her home burnt to ashes. As she was in her early 30s, the wife and mother now stood alone and visibly aged 10 years. The police had told her that her husband and oldest daughter were still lost in the engulfed home. A pink bathrobe and bare feet was looking to be the only thing for the woman to hold onto. It had been the middle of the night when her husband woke her up and ushered her outside, screaming for their sleeping daughter to wake up and follow. Making the trek down the stairs alone, she glanced back several times to find her husband gone and no sign of the daughter or family dog, Vince. Frantic, she had grabbed the portable phone on the small table, by the door, and ran out as she dialed the three simple numbers.

Neighbours and friends gathered to comfort the woman who had never stopped screaming the names of her family, or yelling at the police to find them.

Three firefighters had already been dispatched into the home to rescue any survivors but only one had come out holding a lifeless young girl in his arms. Black boots trudged through the soaked lawn to hand off the small, limp child to Logan and Zeke, who stood in the distance of the ambulance. Both were covered in soot and the fireman coughing and struggling to stay upright from his own intake of smoke as he handed the girl to Logan, yelled over the noise and commotion that the child was found on the floor, in the room next to where the fire had started. 

"I got her! Thanks, Jack!" Logan cradled the limp body in his arms and quickly turned to place her on the grass, facing away from the blaze. "Z, go get the bag! I'll do her here!" Clearing her airway and starting CPR, Logan focused on saving the girl's life instead of what was going on around him. "Come on, darlin. Breathe. Please breathe." By the blue on the girl's lips and lack of avail, Logan feared the worst. He hadn't heard the footsteps or paid attention to the calm, well-dressed man who knelt down across from him. He didn't have to look up to know who it was or why he was there. Logan paused as he was tired but didn't bother to look anywhere but at the girl in front of him. "Why is it that I can't seem to get rid of you?" Taking a moment to breathe before he started with the chest compressions again, Logan spoke again to the figure sitting calmly still. "You can't have her. She can't be more than 12 years old, at the most. Her parents just lost their house. I won't let you give them something else to lose. They deserve to have her live."

Remy kept his eyes on the child who was still not breathing. "We all die, Logan."

Logan growled. "Correction, people die. You've never even taken a human breath, have you?" He hissed it before he could control himself.

The insult hurt him deeply but Remy only brushed it off and kept his focus on the girl between them.

What happened next was something Logan hadn't expected. The only thing Remy had said to him was "move" and Logan backed off. He watched as Remy slowly flattened his right hand on the girl's stomach and closed his eyes. Logan blinked and on the next breath, the girl coughed and sputtered, releasing small clouds of black and gray smoke with every exhale she forced out. Logan looked up to finally see Remy's face and shivered. "What the Hell did you just do?" Time had frozen around them, like before on the street, even the girl was moving extremely slow while they seemed unaffected. It hadn't made sense to him just why the calm man in a black business suit had done the opposite of what he claimed to be there for.

"My assignment was for two, here. Only one may stay if the reason is just." Remy had said it without tone or final look to Logan. He was gone within seconds of finishing, leaving Logan to rejoin real time and help Zeke put the girl on the gurney and escort her to the ambulance. 

Logan learned later what Remy had meant. The daughter was saved from the flames but just barely. The father had lost his life while trying to rouse his child and trying to save valuable papers and trinkets from the house. The dog was later found burnt to a crisp under the brand new baby bed. With the flames inching closer and surrounding him, the small scruffy animal found himself backed to the wall with no chance of escape.

~~~~

Logan walked tiredly into Corey's hospital room and found Sharon sitting in the chair beside the bed and resting her head on the white knit linen blanket. He paused in the doorway and took in the scene. He had felt the same way Sharon had; worn with worry and exhausted from not knowing the outcome of their son's dangling life. Walking over to lightly place his hand on her shoulder, Logan spoke her name softly as not to frighten her. 

Sharon Abbott picked her head up and looked at him with bleary, tired eyes. She had taken the day off of work but still managed to dress as a professional in black khaki pants and a white blouse "They ran more tests on him, today. The more he stays asleep, the worse the chances are for him waking up. Why isn't he waking up, Logan?" She allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and embraced by the only man who had stayed by her side, even after being told he was not the father. The few boyfriends she had, after Logan, had never lasted long due to knowledge of either Logan or Corey. Had Logan preferred women, she would have posed the question to have their semi-union be legal.

"I don't know, darlin. The doctors have that part under control, I just bring the patients to them." Still locked in the embrace, Logan whispered over her shoulder calming words while watching the heart machine attached to the young boy in the bed. He still wore his dirty, smokey clothes from the early morning fire and wanted to just lie down and forget about everything for a few hours. Pulling back to look at the equally tired woman, Logan paused a moment. "Why don't I take you home so you can get some rest, and I can change and get some rest and we'll meet back here, later tonight? I think we can both use the time off from the world."

A nod was all Sharon could offer but it was not completely what she wanted. 

Logan put his arm around her and guided her out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. He agreed with her that home was not where he wanted to be when their son's life was hanging in the balance but it was where they needed to be to make sure they could take care of Corey as well as themselves. As the doors opened, they stepped in and doors closed again, Logan was embraced again and left to only hold the frail, shaking woman.

"Thank you, Logan. I couldn't do this on my own." Sharon let the words soak up the tears that ran down her cheeks and into the soot-covered material she clung to.

There hadn't been much for Logan to say but nodded just the same. In fact, Logan didn't speak again until they were out of the elevator and in Sharon's car with Logan driving her home. "Uh, have you called Tim? He should know about his son, even if his agenda didn't have time for Corey in the first place." It wasn't the time for Logan to bring up Corey's biological father but he felt Timothy Franks was entitled to know about his son's worsening condition.

Sharon shook her head as they exited the hospital parking lot and headed for the freeway. "He hasn't wanted to see Corey since his fifth birthday. Every year of no call, no show, he solidifies his masculinity as a mouse. Tim doesn't care about anyone else but himself." 

"Got it." Logan stopped himself from going any further as Sharon had expressed her anger toward her ex-boyfriend. He focused on the road in front of him and left Sharon to doze and lazily watch the surrounding cars from the passenger seat. A sigh left him as he thought back to his early morning excitement with the calmly, well-dressed young man that miraculously saved the young girl from dying; something Remy had seemed not to have ever done before.

When next both Sharon and Logan knew, they had pulled into the driveway of Sharon's home and sat there in silence before getting out a full five minutes later. Logan was the first out of the car and walked around to the passenger side to open the door and help her out of the car and into the house. He had escorted her inside and into the bedroom, closing blinds and locking doors and windows all the way. As they made it to her bedroom and she sat down on the edge of the bed, Logan helped her out of her thin windbreaker and helped her to lie down and get some rest. "I'll uh, call ya later to see how yer doin, before we go to the hospital. Just relax, darlin. You're no good to Corey or yerself if you keep running yerself down." Logan sat on the side of the bed and looked down at her. For the time of morning, closing the blinds had given the room a darkness he had hoped for but hadn't let the two of them separate.

The smokey musk from Logan's clothes filled the air between them as he leaned in closer for a parting kiss. He really wasn't expecting her to grab hold of his shirt and pull him down to lay next to her on the bed. Logan obliged but hoped it wouldn't lead to something he couldn't enjoy as well. "Sharon, I-- Listen, darlin, I'm not--"

"I know." Sharon halted him from completing his explanation. "Logan, I just need someone to help me feel alive, right now. Corey adores you and even though we're not really together, I want you to be apart of our lives. Please? We're still young and if I lost Corey, I might lose both of you....." her voice trailed off as she stared into his clouded blue eyes.  
Logan had to think for a moment before he said anything. Weighing his thoughts and answers before voicing them to an extremely fragile woman who was asking him to do something out of sympathy, rather than love. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she was depending on him to be there for her, all the way, if possible. However, sex was the last thing on his mind for such a vulnerable time. Plus, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about the spicy Cajun that he told himself he despised. "Sharon, darlin, I don't want this to happen if all it's going to be for is sympathy. I love you, too, but this isn't the time for rush decisions. Whatever happens with Corey, I'll be here no matter what. We were friends before Tim came along and we'll be friends however this turns out. Okay?"

Sharon averted her eyes but nodded. "At least stay with me for awhile?"

A sigh and then a nod before Logan moved himself up onto the bed, placing his back against the tall, wooden headboard and letting her rest her head on his chest as she curled around him. As he soothed her to sleep, Logan's thoughts carried back to the night he and Remy made love in his bed. His memory hinted at the soft touch Remy's skin had offered and the heated feel of the inside of his body as Logan moved in and out of him. Not wanting to admit to himself that his thoughts were turning him on, Logan cleared his throat quietly and closed his eyes to rest himself.

~~~~~

Logan stood beside Corey's bed and watched the boy sleep with tubes and wires going in and out of him. Sharon had been too sick and weak to attend her son's vigil so Logan had gone instead. The small room crowded with teens and adults who knew Corey and bestowed good thoughts on the comatose teen. It was heartwrenching to hear stories from the boy's friends as if he had never known Corey or his mother but Logan stood there with an inviting smile and listened to each individual, thanking them as they left.

When the last of the friends had left, Logan sat down on the bedside chair and sighed in exhaustion. A full two hours he had spent listening and talking to friends and parents and giving them support even though he knew Sharon needed to be supported as well. Closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his right hand, Logan suddenly felt a presence and looked up at the figure in the doorway. "Sorry, I didn't know Corey had so many friends."

The woman nodded calmly and stepped forward, her flowing colorful pastel robes swishing softly in the movements. Her long, straight lavender hair blew in an invisible breeze as she came to stand beside the bed. "Friend, no. Know him, yes." Her sapphire eyes blinked as she smiled softly.

"Who are you?"

The woman slowly looked down and Corey and then back to Logan before she answered. "Thete has been removed from this assignment. I am to finish what he has started. I am here so that you may give your goodbyes to the child." Her voice held no tone at all but spoke volumes of misery to Logan. Her cool, deep eyes showed an ocean of her long life at her job, showing the onlooker that she intended to complete her assignments where Remy had let them slip into extensions.

Logan seemed puzzled at the name she had given him. "Thete?" He hadn't placed the name or where he had heard it before but it had sounded eerily familiar to his ears and lips. "LeBeau. Yer here to take over for the kid, right? Well, darlin, I told him, now I'm tellin' you, it ain't happenin."

A calm sigh with a small smile of admiration. "It is not your choice or Thete's who lives or dies in this world. He was sent here to complete an assignment and he did not. With every step against destiny, this boy suffers from being able to complete his destiny. Thete has warned you not to interfere with this and you've chosen to disregard him. Before this evening is done, the boy will come with me to where he is supposed to have already been. I will allow you to inform his mother and have her pay her respects but, do not interfere again." The woman had not glared nor raised her voice at Logan but the sentiment was made perfectly clear.

"What happened to Remy? What do you mean, he's been removed? Look, this kid is a good kid. He doesn't deserve to have his life taken away because of one foolish accident that he didn't cause or contribute to." Logan growled but quickly regretted it as the look on her face seemed to frighten him even though she made no threatening moves or looks against him.

"As I have said, Thete has been removed from this assignment due to his negligent actions in this situation. For that, he has been reprimanded and punished. He chose his fate but you do not have to follow." For the first time in ages, sorrow entered her voice. She had loved the young man she saved from the stones of Stonehenge and thought of him as a brother and lover soul but felt deep anger in him as she revoked his privileges and carried out his damning sentence.

Logan had been unable to reply or even form any words on his lips or mind. He felt himself slowly sinking back into the chair as the shock of her words washed over him. His ears heard her speak but his brain didn't register her words as she disappeared from the room. Logan was finally having to come to terms with Corey's terminal decision. As he had a thought to possibly delay or change the outcome, he looked up to find she was gone. Now the task came to tell Sharon she had to let go of her son. But, how?

Continued.


	11. Chapter 11

It wasn't Hell that Remy was in but it felt like it. He had been subjected to days of screaming pains and tortures better left unspoken. It had been explained to him that he had broken the rules of a Journeyer and for that, he needed to be punished. His body had been stripped of garments while his ankles and wrists were cuffed in chains that spread him apart. The cell he had been chained to resembled that of an old castle dungeon, only much more darker and hotter.

Remy was dirty and hot and scarred from the torture he had been put through. The cuts along his arms, legs and torso burned from the dirt and sweat that seeped into each open wound. He had become pale and dangerously thin, amazingly, the only colour to his body had been the cuts and welts brought on from hot irons and a fire whip. So much pain and suffering for his crime yet he refused to beg for mercy or plea for death, itself, to take him.

The room was dark, almost pitch black. 

The heavy iron door slowly swung open with a creaking groan before stopping wide enough for the young woman to enter in her colourful and clean robes. Her hands folded in front of her and her head bowed under the hood of the blood red cloak, her hair fell down to either side of her breasts. When she did look up, she took in her lovely protégé and shook her head in shame. "I have failed you, Thete. Forgive me."

Shaking his head but not looking up from the ground to see her, Remy whispered his reply, "wasn't you." He shivered as an invisible draft passed through him. "I knew the rules and I broke them." A small jump as a thin finger raised his chin to look at her. Her eyes matched his in sadness but he said nothing in noticing.

Slowly reaching her hands up and removing the hood, she smiled faintly. "This sentence you are in has lasted for centuries on others who have failed to do their duties. Because you have broken the most sacred of rules, this sentence cannot be undone. However, I have managed to speak to the High Counsel on your behalf and they are willing to reduce your sentence."

"If?"

"If you finish your task that was started, by the end of the next nightfall." Her tone was monotonous. She knew he would never agree to the second condition but she had to say it. "The next term to meet requires you to include the one soul you have shown yourself to."

Remy's expression filled with shock and disbelieving anguish. "No. I cannot."

A pale hand cupped his cheek. "His is an old soul, Thete." She smiled softly, in attempt to sway his mind to what should be done but the smile only led to her furrowing her brow in worry for him. She knew exactly what she was asking him to do and knew exactly how he would handle it. "You'll feel better once it's done. He will understand what you ask as he is destined to be with you, again."

Reluctantly, Remy nodded.

\-------------------

Sharon spent the better part of two hours sitting with her son. After more tests, it was determined that Corey's brainwaves were steadily declining and she was told to close any unfinished businesses with him. She wept and held his hand for more than an hour while whispering about his childhood and how Logan is getting along and so on. Her thoughts had begun to wander as she hadn't slept in some three days. Excerpts of the Bible were read over and over to him, in hopes of a miracle that Corey would wake up and be completely cured but it was misguided. 

Logan stood in the doorway and watched her, arms folded and leaning on his left shoulder. His mind replayed thoughts of Corey throughout his life, growing up into the boy that now lie in the bed, and possible thoughts of what he might have grown into, had the accident not occurred. Logan saw himself looking over Corey's family and watching him with loving contentment but didn't see himself being with Corey, or Sharon. 

In a moment of calmness in the room, Sharon shifted from her position beside the bed. The only light in the room had been coming from a small sink, behind her, and gave her an angelic halo as she raised herself up to kiss his forehead and whisper that it was okay for him to go and be at peace. She whispered that she loved him and would always keep him in her heart; that she was heartbroken to see him go but wanted him to be better. In sitting back down and clutching his limp hand in one shaky hand, Sharon wiped fresh tears from her cheeks with the other. "God will take care of you, baby. I love you." Her voice cracked as she uttered the words. Her reddened eyes stared at his face until the picture embedded itself in her mind. 

With another seemingly long blink of time, the woman with the lavender hair and colourful flowing robes appeared, on the other side of the bed and smiled at Sharon. "It is time, Corey." The softness in her voice had been spoken as if to a lover. Patience and care bounded from her fluid motions of reaching out her hand for the sleeping boy to take.   
Logan watched the scene unfold but didn't move to stop it. Instead, he watched as Corey's hand lifted and placed itself in the woman's waiting hand. Logan's throat closed as the spirit of Corey sat up in the bed and then hopped down to stand beside the woman. His lungs refused to breathe as Corey's eyes met his and the spirit smiled lovingly at Logan before the two figures vanished. A sigh of relief and sadness finally exhaled from the medic. Quickly, he wiped a tear before anyone saw.

"I'm afraid, it is your turn, Logan." Again, it was said in a calm tone only this time, it was a male voice that said it. Remy stood a step behind Logan, once again donned in a black suit and looking very clean.

Logan didn't move. "My turn for what, exactly?"

Remy cleared his throat quietly and placed a steady hand on Logan's right shoulder. "I have shown myself and what I am, to you. Anyone who sees us must not be permitted to keep such a secret."

"So, wipe my memory and get lost. I ain't leavin' Sharon after her son left with yer girlfriend." Logan's tone discreetly filled with irritation.

Sighing, Remy stepped forward. "It's not that easy. However, I will grant you the time to comfort her and ease her pain through this but, once it is over, I will collect you. Ready or not."

In frustration, Logan shrugged the hand from his shoulder and angrily cleared his throat, moving into the room and pulling Sharon into an embrace.

\---------------------

Logan spent the next week helping Sharon plan for Corey's funeral during daylight hours but his nights were filled planning for his own. He knew Remy was not joking or would even attempt to shirk his responsibilities, now that he had tasted Hell. Logan took the week off from work to set everything straight. The thought that most disturbed him was not that he was going to die after the funeral but that he was finally okay with it. 

On the day of the funeral, Logan dressed himself in a black suit, white shirt and black tie. He found it fitting that this would be his last clothes and sight to take with him; a funeral for Corey, whom he had loved as his own, Sharon, a woman he would have loved even more had he been straight, and a dark figure that promised him nothing in return. With a final look in the mirror, Logan gathered his car keys and wallet and shoved them into his pocket before taking a breath of courage and exiting his apartment. Mentally, he rolled over everything that needed completing, in his mind, as he stood in the elevator going down to the lobby.

When the doors opened, Logan's eyes lifted from the floor to the bright lobby of his apartment building. He felt on autopilot as he passed through the small but inviting lobby and out to the street. The world seemed brighter, happier but he knew it was the same old sights he had seen but never really saw in his line of work. He wondered who would find him and when. He wondered where it would happen, if Remy would let him go home or if he would take Logan at the cemetery. He sat in the back of a taxi to Sharon's and lost himself in thought.

The taxi driver had to yell at him to reclaim Logan's attention.

Numbly, Logan paid his fee and stepped out of the backseat. A sigh as he stood at the end of her small driveway and watched her move about the living room, through the window. He noted the way she fidgeted with her dangling earrings, her nice black dress that she had worn to his company's Christmas party the year before and her hair that had been pulled back into a bun at the base of her skull. Taking courage and the first step, he moved closer to her front door, watching her swat wetness from her eyes.

In a glimpse, Sharon's eye caught her visitor walking past and ran to the front door to open it before the bell jingled. "Logan!" Her arms wrapped around him and the tears fell in a rush, soaking his jacket lapels. For five minutes, she cried, not wanting to stop or move or even acknowledge the shiny black limo that had just pulled up, out front. "I don't want this to happen. I want my baby back."

"I know." Logan held her and forced himself not to give in to his own sadness. That was becoming a very difficult strategy. "We have to go. I'll be right here with you." In easing them apart, Logan slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it, gently. He nudged her back inside to let her gather her purse, tissues and wits before closing up and leaving with him to the open car door. He waited for her to slide into the backseat before taking one last look around and sliding in beside her.

 

Continued.


	12. Chapter 12

Logan lay on his bed, still in the tux he had rented. His shoes were off and on the floor, beside the bed. The white shirt had been unbuttoned but tucked into the pants while the thin black tie lay in a pile on the nightstand, to his left. He lay in the dark with only the living room light illuminating a small portion of his bedroom entryway. The smoke from his stub of a cigar created a faint mist that danced and did its best to entertain the sullen medic. Logan was numb and exhausted from crying tears that- hours earlier- showed no signs of stopping. His arms, heavy with ache from holding a shivering, grieving mother, now rest limply beside him.

From the darkness of the bedroom, a figure in a long, black cloak and hood emerged and came to a stop at the end of Logan's bed, blocking the doorway to the living room. The figure only stood there in silence and watched the man on the bed. A faint pulsing eminated from within the cloak to sound more of a heartbeat, calm and steady as the air slowly thickened.

"I ain't done yet." Logan had been thrown off guard by the manifestation of the cloaked figure though he had been waiting for it. He continued to puff on his cigar and paid little attention to the boney hands that raised to the hood and removed it. "Didn't need to get all dolled up for me. Or, are you just tryin' to impress me so I'll come quietly?"

Remy didn't answer. His calm gaze admired Logan from the edge. The ruby irises burned into desire for the man on the bed. He had missed Logan so much and now that his last assignment was nearing an end, he wanted nothing but to touch Logan one final time. The thickness of the heavy cloak seemed to weigh him down and kept him anchored from climbing up and topping Logan, tossing the cigar aside.

An eyebrow raised as Logan heard nothing from his unwanted visitor. "Graduation gown? Two in one day must be a new goal for ya."

"No." Calm, cool sigh of a word that barely shut out the hunger Remy felt. "I do not graduate from this."

Logan reclined on his elbows and squinted to get a better look at the younger man before him. "Then, why the monkey suit?"

Remy looked about his dress and sighed heavily. He didn't want to meet the true reason of his formalwear. "After completion, I will die." Clearing his throat, Remy changed the subject. "Have you finished your chapter?"

Logan sat up fully and gave the man a quizzical look. "Finished my 'chapter'? What am I? A book?" He laughed smokily. "Hope it's a good chuckle for ya."

"I wish to ease your transition. If you'll let me?" Remy pressed on.

Logan listened, intrigued.

With a flick of his finger at his collar, the heavy black robe opened and gracefully slid silently to the floor, revealing a youthful, naked and pale body before Logan. "We were lovers once, mon cher." 

"I think I'd remember fuckin' Death." Logan was unamused at the flirt.

Swallowing and climbing up to perch at Logan's feet, Remy bent and softly kissed the top of Logan's left socked foot. He looked up from his bent position, feeling the weight of Logan's stare. "I love you, Logan. I chose this assignment because I wanted to be with you, one last time. I've waited a thousand years for you."

Logan's gaze hardened. "You take my son, you give little time to recoup from his death and now you tell me that you've had a hard-on for so long and have been looking to fuck to death?" Logan laughed outright. "Put yer clothes on. I ain't screwin' anybody that kills my son and makes a joke of it."

Remy sat up and downcast his gaze as he slid backwards off the bed. Reaching for his cloak, he choked back the flood of sweet memories they had shared and were now being callously tossed aside like a wet towel. "This is no joke, Logan."

Taking the cigar and stamping it out in the ashtray, on the nightstand, Logan moved to stand up and stepped toward the bathroom. "You have yer job. Do it." He heard movement behind him and quickly turned to grab Remy by a raised white wrist, crushing it in his right hand. His left bore three razor sharp claws that came within milimetres of Remy's thin throat.

\----------------------

Evengentia was a Pharaoh's daughter. It was said that she was the great great grandcousin to Snefru. She had spent her childhood growing up in the palace of the Pharaoh of Giza and spent her youth spinning lover after lover around her little fingers. With a child's face and a warm glow about her, she was soon her father's pride and joy. Long black hair that was board straight with beaded braids mingled in, she was the epitome of beauty and lavish style that rivaled even her mother's. Her soft bronze body constantly bathed in fresh white linens or bright colours of her father's conquests to Thebes. Elegant jewels dazzled and adorned her slender arms, neck and ears in fashions that neared Pharaoh's own stylings.

Fancying trinket after trinket and story after story, Evengentia soon fascinated her time with the many guards throughout the palace. She had been worshiped as a princess but was often regarded as Queen.

Kahten, Captain of the Royal Guard, had been promised the hand of the beautiful princess but she did not love him. He had sealed her destiny just as he laid the blood of Pharaoh's enemies before his ruler. 

Begging her father to change his mind and failing, Evengentia set about herself to find a more suitable husband. Her efforts were less than fruitful but struck an idea that she wasted little time enacting. If she could not have another husband, she would prove the older captain beneath her. Against Pharaoh's blessing, Evengentia challenged the 27-year-old to a chariot race. If he beat her in the first of two games, he would win her hand. But, if she beat him in both the race and hand-to-hand combat, she would then be free to choose her mate.

"This will bring you nowhere, Princess." Kahten warned his opponent as they stood side by side at the starting line.

Evengentia smiled and coyly glanced to the captain. "Best me and we shall see." The order from the Pharaoh was given and with another brilliant smile, Evengentia slapped the reins and her two horses soared out into the arena. Two fresh Egyptian horses had been latched to a golden, one-person chariot that had been her father's personal coach. With another firm tug on the reins and a loud yell, the princess had pulled to three chariot lengths ahead of her opponent.

Kahten gained ground in short time and soon was pulling ahead of the golden coach. He laughed loudly and whipped his imported Arabians twice more and soared a length in front. "Give up, highness! I am Pharaoh's chosen captain!" Bare bronze chest tightened and heaved as sweat beaded from every pore. Kahten was winning his prize and how he would relish that prize in victory. He closed his eyes as the roar of the crowd grew louder but snapped them open by the sound of a passing hoofbeat. "No!"

The corner was sharp and bumpy but the princess hung on with all her might, mussing her horses faster and faster back to the finish. Black hair danced in the wind and caped a glance back at her competitor. A throaty laugh as Kahten was a horse behind but closing on her heels. By the end of the line, Kahten had caught up to her but failed to be the first back, giving Evengentia her first victory.

Pharaoh had granted the second game, letting the captain gain back his credit and possibly claim his title. Though he was anxious to see who would win and stop his daughter's pride from displacing herself, Pharaoh waved his hand and announced that the continuation of the games would wait for the next day. He called for his daughter and captain to be given a royal feast that night and waved the crowd away as he retired to his chambers and servants.

As night fell, Evengentia sat next to her father, bathed in turquoise and gold jewelry. Lavender dress did little to conceal the petite figure of its owner. Her hair had taken several hours to secure in elegant braids and twists, long and shiny turquoise beads had been woven in into designs that gave her resemblance to Goddess Isis. Her smile illuminated the evening's festivities. Holding herself as a living statue, she enjoyed herself with dancers and musicians that played while the court of hundreds dined at long tables filled with meats, breads and fruits.

With the feast nearing an end, both competitors retired to their chambers and awaited dawn. 

When dawn came, Evengentia adorned her armor and weapon of choice and proceeded to the throne room, her servant entourage following closely behind. She felt nervous and excited while keeping her wits about her as she spotted her opponent across from her. Standing before her father, alongside Kahten, she was asked if she had really wanted to go through with the contest. "I am."

"As am I, Great Pharaoh," Kahten replied when asked.

Pharaoh nodded and the match began.

With spears in hand, the two rivals took position and clashed weapons. Kahten treated the match as he would if he had been fighting another man but kept in mind that this opponent was to remain alive and unblemished. It was a complement he was not about to have returned. He found himself lunging and dodging just as much as the recipiant was, if not more. The clatter of the two spears had become loud and unbearable as many onlookers covered their ears. Finally, his anger stirred and the young captain lunged at her with the precision of hunting a wild beast. 

Evengentia drew her spear close to her body and spun in place, letting Kahten's spear barely graze her waist until their left shoulders met. Quickly placing the end of her spear behind his knees, she spun the opposite direction and tripped her attacker, letting him fall to the floor. She turned again and stopped, her spear tip hovering only centimetres from Kahten's face.

Kahten sat there a moment before retaliating with a kick to the back of her ankles, tripping her. With the rest of his body, he pulled himself up and lay her flat, on the floor, covering her with him. "End this foolishness, Highness. You are already destined to be my bride," he whispered low into her ear as she fought to remove him.

Sapphire orbs blinked and hardened. She hadn't wanted to subside her agenda, nor become a useless wife for the Captain of the Guards instead of a Queen. "NO!" A scream that silenced the whispering crowd before a final move. Wrapping one leg around his and rolling both, revealing she on top, Evengentia's final assault came with both triumph and horror. Spinning the spear around and piercing his leather armour and then his bronze chest, she did not breathe or let it sink in that she had killed the Captain of the Guards with his own spear. She sat atop him and stared at her own bloodied hands as if removed from the horrible act and then placed back to take the punishment.

Her mother screamed loudly as all eyes fell on what the princess had done. Both parents had faces of shock and terror as the Pharraoh sorrowfully waved his hand and had his only daughter taken away. The charge was murder and that charge was immediately incorporated with conspiracy; which meant the punishment was death, swift and eternal. 

\-------------------

Logan paused and looked at his surroundings as he held Remy by the pale tunic. His bedroom and apartment had fallen away and left an old stone and mortar hut with a straw roof. "What the Hell--? Where's my apartment?" Logan shook the man that had been responsible for turning Logan's world upside down in a blink and not thought twice.

Breathing in and releasing, Remy closed his eyes as he answered, "this was your home, Logan. You and I were lovers, here." Remy all but pleaded with Logan to remember. He now wore a pale peach tunic and maroon pants instead of the black cloak and hood. "It was a thousand years ago. You were burned at the stake by the townspeople and I was--"

Logan held up a hand to cut him off. "Don't tell me, you were whisked away to the land of Nod." He let go and paused a moment to make sure it was no illusion and walked over to the straw and wood bed, in the corner.

"No," Remy corrected. "I was sacrificed and forced to become what I am. Every hundred years or so, we are reconnected to try and right our wrongs. If there is no connection, we try again. This, however, is the final try."

Logan turned back from staring at the bed, looking at Remy and blinking. "Then what happens?"

Remy took a deep breath, "you die."

"You go on bein' Death, I bet."

Remy shook his head. "If this does not correct itself, I will be banished forever."

Logan rubbed a hand over his face in attempt to make sense of what was happening. "So, when is this?" He waved a hand at the scenery.

"The year is 774 A.D."

"Hm." Logan moved to the door and reached for the rope handle but paused again. "What happens if you 'correct' it? I mean, I'm still dead, yer dead... and Sharon loses her sanity because everyone's gone."

Sighing with exhaustion of explaining things, Remy forced the agitation out of his voice. "What history has shown was not supposed to happen at all. We were meant to be together, Logan. Because it was taken from us, time has been trying to rectify things. In every lifetime, you have had dreams of different places and times, correct?"

No answer.

"You are not the man to bow down and accept things. You have a temper and part of that comes from losing me, in this time. You find yourself unable to hold a love interest for more than a few months because that is how long it took for us to be together and then separated. When we made love in your apartment, you felt the heat of it, didn't you? You belonged with me and I, you. You cannot die if we are together, Logan." Remy's head ached. Inside, he felt the flutter of his own time running short and swallowed nervously.

Logan's stare was even but flickered as he caught the twinge of anxiety in Remy. "What will happen to Sharon? I ain't agreein' until I know she'll be okay."

"You will die, no matter what. However, to ease your mind, if you correct this with me, future events will alter to how it should have been. In all of our future lives, we will be together, completely. Born, live, die as humans. Sharon and her son will be happy and healthy and live long, happy lives." Another flutter hit Remy's stomach, causing his body to tense and the scenery to change back to Logan's apartment in present day.

Evengentia stood before them and waited for answer. "The time has ended. There will be no more delaying. I have stopped time to this spot."

Anger rose inside of Logan. He despised ultimatums. "Who'll find me?"

"What will it matter?" Her voice monotoned.

"Not Sharon."

Evengentia smiled sweetly at the sentiment. "It will be written that your companion, Ezekiel, will discover your remains."

Logan finally nodded. "So, if I die, what happens to the Cajun?" A nod in Remy's direction.

"Everything will be as it should."

A sigh as Logan bit the right corner of his mouth. Another sigh as he gave in and placed himself back on the bed, in the position he had been in when Remy appeaared. Taking one last long, deep breath, Logan closed his eyes and waited. Within an instant, he was still.

Evengentia looked from Logan's body to Remy. "And now...." She waited for Remy to retrieve the vial from his robes and uncork it, drinking the contents. "You were always my favourite, Thete. I will look for you when your time fully comes to an end. I Loved you, my friend." A tear slid down her pale cheek as Remy smiled to her and then climbed onto the bed to lay beside Logan. 

\----------------------

Logan opened his eyes to the sound of morning birds chirping happily outside his tiny window, beside the door. He lie on his back, naked under the covers, a stray arm draped over his chest. Turning his head and smiling at the young carpenter, who also awoke, Logan kissed his lips and welcomed the new day.

"G' mornin' to you, cher." Thete smiled. "What were ya dreamin' about? You were restless, last night."

Another smile only this time, it was mixed with confusion. "I don't remember." Another kiss. "Breakfast?"

"Oui." Thete sat up but instead of climbing out of the small bed, he leaned over Logan and kissed him more passionately than any kisses they shared the night prior. "We have de time for dat later."

 

Finished.


End file.
